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diff --git a/39548-h/39548-h.htm b/39548-h/39548-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b7395bf --- /dev/null +++ b/39548-h/39548-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,24109 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Forged Note, by Oscar Micheaux. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; + /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +h1 { + margin-bottom: 2em; + font-size: 160%; + font-weight: normal; +} + +h2 { + font-size: 120%; + font-weight: normal; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +.ps { + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; +} + +.pt { + margin-top: 2em; +} + +.pb { + margin-bottom: 2em; +} + +.hang2 { + text-indent: -1em; + margin-left: 1em; + font-size: 90%; +} + + +.ind { + margin-left: 4em; +} + +.deepind { + margin-left: 60%; +} + +.midind { + margin-left: 50%; +} + +.notes { + background-color: #eeeeee; + color: #000; + padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 2em; + padding-left: 2em; padding-right: 1em; + margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.tdl { + text-indent: -1em; + margin-left: 1em; +} + +.tdr { + text-align: right; + padding-right: 2em; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: 75%; text-indent: 0em; + background-color: inherit; font-weight: normal; + font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; + text-decoration: none; +} /* page numbers */ + +.spagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: 83.5%; text-indent: 0em; + background-color: inherit; font-weight: normal; + font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; + text-decoration: none; +} /* page numbers in small text */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.smallest { + font-size: 60%; +} + +.smaller { + font-size: 75%; +} + +.small { + font-size: 90%; +} + +.big { + font-size: 120%; +} + +.bigger { + font-size: 140%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + + + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin-top: 2em; + text-align: center; +} + +.ctext { + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center; + font-weight: normal; + margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; +} + + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {vertical-align: baseline; + position: relative; bottom: 0.4em; + font-size: 80%; text-decoration: none;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4q { + display: block; + margin-left: 3.5em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} /*smaller indent for quote marks*/ + +.poem span.i5 { + display: block; + margin-left: 5em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Forged Note, by Oscar Micheaux + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Forged Note + A Romance of the Darker Races + +Author: Oscar Micheaux + +Illustrator: C.W. Heller + +Release Date: April 27, 2012 [EBook #39548] +[Last updated: December 15, 2013] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FORGED NOTE *** + + + + +Produced by Cathy Maxam and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. (This file was +produced from images generously made available by The +Internet Archive) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"><a id="icover" name="icover"></a> +<img src="images/icover.jpg" alt="cover" /> + + +</div> + +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i001_dust_cover" name="i001_dust_cover"></a> +<img src="images/i001_dust_cover.jpg" alt="dustcover" /> + + +</div> + + +<div class="notes small"> +<p>NOTES FROM THE JACKET DUSTCOVER OF THE FORGED NOTE:</p> + +<p>It is sometimes asked what inspires +people to begin to write. Many reasons +may be given, but in this particular instance, +a brief statement of the author's +experiences might be of interest.</p> + +<p>At the age of twenty-one he was a +homesteader on the Rosebud Indian +Reservation, South Dakota, where he was +about the only Negro settler. At twenty-six +he was prosperous; and when another +strip of the famous reservation was thrown +open to settlement, he helped some of +his relatives to secure land by furnishing +money with which to purchase relinquishments +on homesteads and other expenses. +He also secured for a young lady another +homestead, upon which she made filings. +Six months later they were married and +then went to live on her homestead.</p> + +<p>She was the daughter of a minister in +one of the leading Negro churches and +was well educated, loved her husband devotedly—to +all appearances—and they +were happy.</p> + +<p>Her father and husband represented +beings with different points of view, and +on this account an enmity grew up between +them. The husband had often +publicly criticised some of the leaders in +his race as not being sincere, particularly +many of the preachers. A year after the +marriage, the preacher paid his second +visit and when the husband was away, to +indicate his dislike for the pioneer, he +had his daughter, who was sick in bed, +forge her husband's name to a check for +a large sum, secured the money and took +his daughter to his home in Chicago.</p> + +<p>The homestead had been contested previous +to this, and the minister had denounced +the white man (a banker), who +filed the contest, scathingly for trying to +beat his daughter out of her homestead. +Left alone after her departure, with only +his ninety-year-old grandmother, who +had raised a family in the days of slavery, +for company, Mr. Micheaux wrote his +first book. In the meantime, the case +dragged through all the land courts at +Washington, being finally settled by Secretary +of the Interior Lane in her favor. +About this time, the book appeared, and +was called "THE CONQUEST".</p> + +<p>In this was told anonymously the story +of a base intrigue on the part of the +preacher to vent his spite. The white +banker, whose bank in the meantime had +failed, read the book, and understood.... +He went to Chicago and sent the preacher +money to Cairo to come to Chicago, which +the preacher did. Although unsuccessful +in his effort before the government to +beat Mr. Micheaux's wife out of her +homestead, which had cost Mr. Micheaux +thirty-five hundred dollars and which at +that time was worth six thousand dollars, +the banker succeeded in having the +preacher persuade his daughter to sell +him the homestead, giving her in consideration, +only three hundred dollars.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> <span class="smcap">Note</span>—Until a homestead is commuted—proved +up on—it may be relinquished by the holder +without any person's or persons' consent. The +woman, therefore, in this case could sell the homestead +without her husband's consent.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i003" name="i003"></a> +<img src="images/i003.jpg" alt="i003" /> +<p class="ctext"> "Nice,—Hell! How long do you figure those church people would kite +you about, if I told them <i>what you were</i> back +in—you know where?"</p> + +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>THE FORGED NOTE</h1> + +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i004" name="i004"></a> +<img src="images/i004.jpg" alt="i004" /> +<p class="ctext">They stood together now upon the walkway, +and suddenly he gripped her hand.</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i005" name="i005"></a> +<img src="images/i005.jpg" alt="i005" /> +<p class="ctext">They regarded the clock strangely, and uttered audibly, "Eighteen +minutes left," and in the meantime it tick-tocked +the fatal minutes away.</p> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i006" name="i006"></a> +<img src="images/i006.jpg" alt="i006" /> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center bigger"> +THE FORGED NOTE</p> +<p class="center pb"> +<i>A Romance of the Darker Races</i></p> + +<p class="center smaller pt">BY</p> + +<p class="center"> OSCAR MICHEAUX</p> +<p class="center smaller pb"><i>Author of</i> "The Conquest"</p> +<p class="center small ps"> +<i>ILLUSTRATED BY C.W. HELLER</i></p> +<p class="center pt"> +Lincoln, Nebraska<br /> +WESTERN BOOK SUPPLY COMPANY<br /> +1915 +</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center small"> +COPYRIGHT, 1915</p> +<p class="center smallest">BY</p> +<p class="center smaller"><span class="smcap">Woodruff Bank Note Co.</span></p> + +<p class="center small"><i>All rights reserved</i> +</p> + +<div class="figcenter pb"><a id="i007" name="i007"></a> +<img src="images/i007.jpg" alt="i007" /> +<p class="ctext">"Has it occurred to you that you have told me nothing, absolutely +nothing, about yourself?" The look she gave him was +severe; but he only regarded her strangely.</p> +</div> + + +<p class="midind center pt smallest"> +Press of the<br /> +Woodruff Bank Note Co.<br /> +Lincoln, Nebr.<br /> +</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i008" name="i008"></a> +<img src="images/i008.jpg" alt="i008" /> +<p class="ctext">Murphy conducted a blind tiger in his loft; he also ran a crap game in +connection; and it was his place that "Legs" +visited frequently.</p> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i009" name="i009"></a> +<img src="images/i009.jpg" alt="i009" /> +<p class="ctext">"I own the L. & N. Railroad."</p> +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<blockquote class="small"><p class="center">TO ONE WHOSE NAME DOES NOT APPEAR</p> + + +<p>I am leaving you and Dixie land tomorrow. It is customary perhaps +to say, "Dear Old Dixie" but, since I happen to be from that +little place off in the northwest, of which I have fondly told you, +the <i>Rosebud Country</i>, where I am returning at once, and which +is the only place that is dear to me, I could not conscientiously use +the other term. Still, I am grateful, and well I should be; for, had +I not spent these eighteen months down here, I could never have +written <i>this</i> story. No imagination, positively not mine, could have +created "Slim", "T. Toddy", "Legs", "John Moore", et al. I +really knew them. I haven't even changed their names, since what's +the use? They, unless by chance, will never know, for, as I knew +them, they never read. Only one of them I am sure ever owned a +book. That one did, however, and that I know, for he stole my +dictionary before I left the town. Whatever he expected to do with +it, is a puzzle to me, but since it was leather-bound, I think he +imagined it was a Bible. He was very fond of Bibles, and I recall +that was the only thing he read. He is in jail now, so I understand; +which is no surprise, since he visited there quite often in the +six months I knew him. As to "Legs", I have no word; but since +summer time has come, I am sure "Slim" has either gone into +"business" or is "preaching." "T. Toddy" was pretty shaky when +I saw him last, and I wouldn't be surprised if he were not now in +Heaven. And still, with what he threatened to do to me when he was +informed that I had written of him in a book, he may be in the other +place, who knows! I recall it with a tremor. We were in a restaurant +some time after the first threat, but at that time, he appeared +to understand that I had written nothing bad concerning him, and +we were quite friendly. He told of himself and his travels, relating +a trip abroad, to Liverpool and London. In the course of his +remarks, he told that he used to run down from Liverpool to London +every morning, since it was just over the hill a mile, and could be +seen from Liverpool whenever the fog lifted. He advised me a +bit remonstratingly, that, since I had written of him in the book, +if I had come to him in advance, he would have told me something +of himself to put into it that would have interested the world. I +suggested that it was not then too late, and that he should make +a copy of it. He intimated that it would be worth something and I +agreed with him, and told him I would give him fifty cents. He +said that would be satisfactory, but he wanted it then in advance. +I wouldn't agree to that, but told him that he would have to give +me a brief of his life, where and when he was born, if he had been, +also where and when he expected to die, etc. first. He got "mad" +then and threatened to do something "awful". Took himself +outside and opened a knife, the blade of which had been broken, +and was then about a half inch long, and told me to come out, whereupon +he would show me my heart. As he waited vainly for me, +he took on an expression that made him appear the worst man +in all the world. I did not, of course go out, and told him so—through +the window.</p> + +<p>That was the end of it—and of him, so far as I know. But you +can understand by this how near I have been to death in your Dixie +Land. When I come back it will not be for "color"; but—well, +I guess you know.</p> + +<p> +New Orleans, La., August 1, 1915.<br /> <span class="deepind">O.M.</span> +</p> +</blockquote> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i011" name="i011"></a> +<img src="images/i011.jpg" alt="i011" /> +<p class="ctext">He awakened from a strange dream. The Bible had fallen to the +floor, and lay open at a chapter under which was written, +"<i>THOU SHALT NOT STEAL!</i>"</p> + +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<table class="small" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="2" summary="contents"> + +<tr> +<td></td> +<td class="big center"><a href="#BOOK_I">BOOK ONE<br /> + +WHICH DEALS WITH ORIGINALS</a><br /> + +CONTENTS</td> + +<td></td> +</tr> + + +<tr> +<td class="center small">CHAPTER</td> +<td class="tdl"></td> +<td class="tdr small">PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">I</td> +<td class="tdl"> <span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_ONE">The Barrier</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">15</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">II</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWO">Attalia</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">31</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">III</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_THREE">Next Day—Discoveries</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">40</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">IV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOUR">And He Never Knew</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">47</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">V</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIVE">B.J. Dickson</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">51</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIX">"Oh, You Sell Books!"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">59</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVEN">In the Office of the Grand Secretary</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">63</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHT">Henry Hugh Hodder</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">67</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">IX</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_NINE">"Sweet Genevieve"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">74</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">X</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TEN">"Do Something and You'll Find Out"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">78</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_ELEVEN">"Jedge L'yles' Co't"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">84</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWELVE">A Jew; A Gentile; A Murder—And Some More</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">93</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIII </td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTEEN">"'Cause Nigga's 's Gittin' So Rich"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">105</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOURTEEN">And Then Came Slim</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">111</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIFTEEN">"Shoo Fly!"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">124</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XVI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIXTEEN">"Why Do You Look at Me so Strangely?"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">130</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XVII </td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN">"I'll Never be Anything But a Vagabond!"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">140</td> +</tr> + +<tr><td> </td></tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +<td class="center big"><a href="#BOOK_II">BOOK TWO<br /> + +THE BEAST AND THE JUNGLE</a><br /> + +CONTENTS</td> +<td></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">I</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_ONE_2">Effingham</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">149</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">II </td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWO_2">"These Negroes in Effingham are Nigga's Proper"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">164</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">III</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_THREE_2">"I Have BEEN Married", Said She</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">173</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">IV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOUR_2">"Eidder Stuck Up Ah She's a Witch!"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">181</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">V</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIVE_2">"A Bigga Liah They Ain't in Town!"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">189</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIX_2">"Yes—<i>MISS</i> Latham!"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">196</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVEN_2">"It All Falls Right Back on Society!"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">202</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHT_2">"Where Are You From?"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">206</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">IX</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_NINE_2">"But Smith is Not His Real Name"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">211</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">X</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TEN_2">"When You Have Been Grass Widowed, It's Different"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">224</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_ELEVEN_2">"I'm Worried About Mildred"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr"> 232</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWELVE_2">And Then She Began to Grow Otherwise</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">241</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTEEN_2">Enter—Mr. Tom Toddy!</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">243</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOURTEEN_2">The Disappearing Chin</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">256</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIFTEEN_2">"Wilson! Wilson! Mildred Has Gone!"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">268</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XVI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIXTEEN_2">The Beast and the Jungle</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">273</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XVII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN_2">"This is Mr. Winslow, Madam!"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">278</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XVIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN_2">"Thou Shalt Not Steal"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">285</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIX</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_NINETEEN_2">They Turned Her Out of Church</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">290</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XX</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY_2">"I <i>LOVE</i> You"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">299</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-ONE_2">"Please Get D' Ole Man Outta Jail"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">302</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-TWO_2">"This Man is Losing His Mind!"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">309</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-THREE_2">"I'll Brand You as a Faker!"</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">317</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XXIV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWENTY-FOUR_2">The Arraignment</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">324</td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i013" name="i013"></a> +<img src="images/i013.jpg" alt="i013" /> +<p class="ctext">"A crooked mother can't raise a straight daughter. It's up to the +daughter—and I've failed!"</p> + +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<table class="small" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="6" summary="contents"> +<tr><td> </td></tr> + +<tr> +<td></td> +<td class="center big"><a href="#BOOK_III">BOOK THREE<br /> + +A MATTER OF TWENTY-FIVE THOUSAND +DOLLARS</a><br /> + +CONTENTS</td> +<td></td> +</tr> + + + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">I</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_ONE_3">"That Gal's Crooked"</a></span> </td> +<td class="tdr">336</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">II</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWO_3">"<i>IT WAS IN THAT CHURCH LAST SUNDAY!</i>"</a></td> +<td class="tdr">344</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">III</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_THREE_3">"<span class="smcap">Uh! 'es Got 'im a Nigga!</span>"</a></td> +<td class="tdr">349</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">IV</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOUR_3">"<span class="smcap">Please Go!" She Cried Hoarsely</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">355</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">V</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIVE_3">The Time Limit</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">362</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VI</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIX_3">Reminiscences—Charge of the Black Cavalry</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">369</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VII</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVEN_3">"<span class="smcap">Please Stop—and Save Me!</span>"</a></td> +<td class="tdr">375</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHT_3">What Her Eyes Saw</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">381</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">IX</td> +<td class="tdl">"<span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_NINE_3">Wha's Y' Man?</a></span>"</td> +<td class="tdr">386</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">X</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_TEN_3">"<span class="smcap">Kick Higher Dare Gal!</span>"</a></td> +<td class="tdr">392</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XI</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_ELEVEN_3">"<span class="smcap">My Wife—Sick</span>—<i>HELL!</i>"</a> </td> +<td class="tdr">397</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWELVE_3">Mid-Night December Thirty-First</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">407</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTEEN_3">Into the Infinite Long Ago</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">412</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIV</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOURTEEN_3">"<span class="smcap">Go, Brother! In God's Name, Go!</span>"</a></td> +<td class="tdr">418</td> +</tr> + +<tr><td> </td></tr> + + +<tr> +<td></td> +<td class="center big pt"><a href="#BOOK_IV">BOOK FOUR<br /> + +THE QUEST ETERNAL</a><br /> + +CONTENTS</td> +<td></td> +</tr> + + + +<tr> +<td class="tdr">I</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_ONE_4">"<span class="smcap">'Scriminatin' 'Ginst Nigga's</span>"</a></td> +<td class="tdr">422</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">II</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWO_4">At Last She Didn't Care</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">432</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">III</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_THREE_4">"<span class="smcap">They Knew He Had Written the Truth!</span>"</a></td> +<td class="tdr">439</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">IV</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_FOUR_4">The Woman With the Three Moles</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">446</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">V</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_FIVE_4">"<span class="smcap">Hello Brown Skin</span>"</a></td> +<td class="tdr">450</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VI</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_SIX_4">"<i>WHO'RE YOU!</i>" <span class="smcap">She Repeated</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">456</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VII</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_SEVEN_4">"<span class="smcap">At Last, Oh Lord, At Last!</span>"</a></td> +<td class="tdr">462</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">VIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_EIGHT_4">"<span class="smcap">Well I'm Going.</span>" <span class="smcap">And She Went</span></a></td> +<td class="tdr">468</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">IX</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_NINE_4">"<span class="smcap">I Hope You—Won't—Be—Angry</span>"</a></td> +<td class="tdr">473</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">X </td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TEN_4">Vellun Parish—Jefferson Bernard</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">478</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XI</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_ELEVEN_4">"<span class="smcap">Mildred, I've Come Back</span>"</a></td> +<td class="tdr">495</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XII</td> +<td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#CHAPTER_TWELVE_4">The Slave Market</a></span></td> +<td class="tdr">504</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdr">XIII</td> +<td class="tdl"><a href="#CHAPTER_THIRTEEN_4">"<span class="smcap">Restitution</span>"</a></td> +<td class="tdr">515</td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i015" name="i015"></a> +<img src="images/i015.jpg" alt="i015" /> +<p class="ctext">She had never felt that he would rebuke her, but now she turned her +head away to shut out the scorn in the look he had given her.</p> + +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i016" name="i016"></a> +<img src="images/i016.jpg" alt="i016" /> +<p class="ctext">"Wha's yo' man?" "I—I have no <i>man</i>," Mildred replied, turning her +face away. "I am alone—alone in everything."</p> + +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter"><a id="i017" name="i017"></a> +<img src="images/i017.jpg" alt="i017" /> +<p class="ctext">"That last woman I married" said Slim, "was such a devil +she almost made me lose my religion."</p> + +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center bigger" >THE FORGED NOTE</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center">CHARACTERS</p> + + +<p class="hang2"><span class="smcap">Sydney Wyeth</span>, An Observer, Who had the Courage of His Convictions.</p> + +<p class="hang2"><span class="smcap">Mildred Latham</span>, A Girl of Mystery, Whose Fortunes are What +We Follow.</p> + +<p class="hang2"><span class="smcap">Furgeson and Thurman</span>, Originals, Who Possessed some Wit and +Humor.</p> + +<p class="hang2"><span class="smcap">B.J. Dickson</span>, An Editor, and a Fighter of the Right Sort.</p> + +<p class="hang2"><span class="smcap">V.R. Coleman</span>, (<span class="smcap">Slim</span>) A Summertime Professor and "Business +Man". (?)</p> + +<p class="hang2">"<span class="smcap">Legs</span>", a "Crap Shooter", Who Reformed and Became a Hero.</p> + +<p class="hang2"><span class="smcap">John Moore</span>, A Character, Who Read the Bible—and did Other +Things.</p> + +<p class="hang2"><span class="smcap">Miss Palmer</span>, Grasswidow and School Teacher, Who Desired +to Remarry.</p> + +<p class="hang2"><span class="smcap">Dr. Randall</span>, A Druggist, Who Knew Everybody's Business.</p> + +<p class="hang2"><span class="smcap">Wilson Jacobs</span>, A Minister, Who Works for Uplift among Black +People.</p> + +<p class="hang2"><span class="smcap">Constance Jacobs</span>, His Sister, a Friend of the Girl of Mystery.</p> + +<p class="hang2"><span class="smcap">Stephen Myer</span>, With a Heart, but a Sinner, Who Died and Went +to——.</p><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center bigger">THE FORGED NOTE</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center big"><a name="BOOK_I" id="BOOK_I"></a>BOOK I.</p> + + + + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ONE" id="CHAPTER_ONE"></a>CHAPTER ONE</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>The Barrier</i></p> + + +<p>He sat at a desk in the small office he had taken. +Before him were papers and bills—unpaid—and letters +too, he had not opened, while to one side were others he +had read, and had typed replies thereto. He had paused +in his work, and was gazing stupidly at the litter before +him.</p> + +<p>His name was Sidney Wyeth, and his home was away +off in the great northwest, in a strip of territory known as +the <i>Rosebud Country</i>. As we meet him now, however, he +is located on the fifth floor of an office building, slightly +toward the outskirts of the business district of one of our +great American cities. He is by profession an author, +which might explain his presence at a desk. It happens, +however, that he is not there this time as a weaver of +dreams, but attending to matter in connection with the +circulation of his work, for he is his own publisher.</p> + +<p>At that moment, however, he was nothing, for he +was sick. For days he had felt a strange illness. Obviously +it had almost reached an acute stage; for, apparently +unable to maintain an upright position at the desk, +he presently stretched himself face downward.</p> + +<p>He might have been in this position an hour, or it might +have been only a few minutes; but of a sudden he was +brought to a position again erect, with ears alert, since +he was sure he had heard a sound without. He strained +his ears in silence.</p> + +<p>Outside, a soft rain was falling. As he continued to +listen, his gaze wandered out over the city below, with +its medley of buildings that rose to various heights, +and sparkled with electric lights. His gaze, in drifting, +presently surveyed the main street of the city, an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +unusually wide thoroughfare, filled with the accustomed +traffic. Beyond lay the harbor, for the city is a great +port, and the same was then filled with innumerable vessels +from far and near. A huge man-o-war arrested his +attention for a while, and then his gaze wandered further. +A wind had risen, from the way the water was dashed +to spray against the windows. The sound of a clock +striking five resounded through the damp air, and +echoed in stentorian tones. It was late-winter, but, due +perhaps to the overcast skies, twilight was rapidly +fading into darkness.</p> + +<p>Failing to hear any further sound, he presently resumed +his tired position, and a few minutes later was lost in a +sickly slumber.</p> + +<p>There could be no mistake now! A step sounded in +the hallway. It was a light step, but firm and brisk and +forward. It was unmistakably that of a young woman. +Onward it came in the direction of his small office. +There was a brief pause when the footsteps reached the +door, and then a knock, but without response from within. +Presently the door was pushed open, and the intruder +entered the room lightly. Still, Sidney Wyeth, unconscious +of the presence of his visitor, did not move or +speak.</p> + +<p>The stranger paused hesitatingly, when once inside, +and observed him closely, where he sat with his face +buried in his arms.</p> + +<p>She was an attractive colored girl, trimly dressed in a +striking, dark-blue tailored suit, cut in the latest fashion. +A small hat reposed jauntily upon her head, while a +wealth of dark hair was gathered in a heavy mass over +her ears. Her delicately molded face, set off by a figure +seemingly designed by an artist, were sufficient to captivate +the most discriminating critic.</p> + +<p>A thin dark strap extended over one shoulder, at the +ends of which a small case was attached. Presently she +drew a book from this same case, and crossed the room +to where the man sat.</p> + +<p>"Good evening," she ventured, pausing at his side, +and fumbling the book she had taken from the case, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +evident embarrassment. He mumbled something inaudible, +but remained silent. His outwardly indifferent +reception had not a discouraging effect upon his visitor, +however, for no sooner had she caught the sound of his +voice, than she fell into a concentrated explanation of +the book.</p> + +<p>Soft and low, in spite of the rapid flow of words, her +voice fell upon his ears, and served to arouse him at last +from his apparent lethargy; but it was not that alone +which made him rise to a half sitting posture, and strain +his ears. It was a peculiar familiarity in the tone. As +he continued to listen, he became convinced that somewhere, +in the months gone by, he had heard that voice +before. "Where was it?" he whispered, but, in his +sluggish thoughts, he could not then recall. There was +one thing of which there was no doubt, however, and +which added strangely to the mystery. She was explaining +his own book, <i>The Tempest</i>.</p> + +<p>At last, in his morbid thoughts, he gave up trying to +connect the voice with a person he had once known, and, +with a tired, long drawn sigh, raised his hand wearily +to his head, and grasped it as if in pain. The flow of +words ceased at once, and the voice now cried, with a +note of pain, and plainly embarrassed:</p> + +<p>"You are ill and I have disturbed you! Oh, I'm <i>so</i> +sorry! Can you overlook—pardon such an awkward +blunder?" She clasped her hands helplessly, and was +plainly distressed. And then, as if seized with a sudden +inspiration, she cried, in a low, subdued voice: "I'll make +a light and bathe your forehead! You seem to have +fever!"</p> + +<p>Turning nimbly, and before he could object, had he +wished to, she crossed quickly to where a small basin +hung from the wall; above this was an electric button, +which could be seen in the semi-darkness. Touching this, +whereupon the room became aglow with light, she +caught up a towel; and, dampening one end, she recrossed +to where he sat, strangely stupid, and, without +hesitation, placed the wet end over his burning forehead, +and held it there for possibly a minute.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Now," she inquired softly, in a tone of solicitous +relief, "do you feel better?"</p> + +<p>As she concluded, she stepped where she could see his +face more easily, and sought his eyes anxiously. The +next moment, both recoiled in sudden recognition, as he +cried:</p> + +<p>"You!"</p> + +<p>She was likewise astonished, and, after only a fraction +of a moment, but in which she regarded him with an +expression that was akin to an appeal, she likewise +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"And <i>you</i>!" Quickly she became composed; and, +catching up the book, as though discovered in some +misdemeanor, with a hurried, parting glance, without +another word, she abruptly left the room.</p> + +<p>She was gone, but his brain was in a tumult.</p> + +<p>And then the illness, that had been hovering over him +for some time, like a sinister ghost, suddenly came into +its own, and a moment later, with a convulsive gasp, he +fell forward across the desk, deathly sick.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It had begun in Cincinnati more than a year before. +Wyeth, accompanied by an assistant, had come down from +Dayton for the purpose of advertising his book, <i>The +Tempest</i> in that city. It was just preceding an election, +that resulted in a change in the city government. And +it was then he became acquainted with Jackson.</p> + +<p>Now, being of an observant turn of mind, Wyeth took +an interest in the state of affairs. He found the city very +much worked up on his arrival. He had not yet secured +accommodation, but, while standing on a corner after +checking his luggage in a nearby drug-store, he was gazing +up and down the street taking in the sights.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," said someone, and turning, Wyeth and +his companion looked upon a man. He was a large +mulatto with curly hair, small eyes, a sharp nose, a firm +chin, and an unusually small mouth for a Negro. He was +dressed in a dark suit, the worse for wear, while his shoes +appeared never to have been shined—in fact, his appearance +was not altogether inviting. And yet, there was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +something about the man that drew Wyeth's attention, +and he listened carefully to what he said. "You seem +to be strangers in the city, and of co'se will requiah +lodgin'. He'ah is my ca'd," he said, extending the bit +of paste board upon which Sidney read at a glance</p> + +<p class="center small"> +THE JACKSON HOUSE +</p> +<p class="center smaller">FIRST CLASS ROOMS, TRANSIENT OR REGULAR</p> + +<p class="center smallest">OPEN DAY AND NIGHT</p> + +<p>"I'm the proprietor and the place is at yo' disposal. +Supposin' you stop with me while youah in the city. +I'll sho treat y' right."</p> + +<p>Sidney believed him, but his appearance made him +hesitant. He looked questioningly at his companion. +The other's expression was unfavorable to Jackson. So, +after a pause and a perfunctory nod, they dismissed him +and proceeded to look further in quest of accommodation.</p> + +<p>An hour or more was thus lost, and, being unable to +find a room that satisfied them, they at last, with some +reluctance, found their way to <i>The Jackson House</i>.</p> + +<p>Inspection still left them dissatisfied, but it was getting +late, so they decided to spend the night. Jackson +showed them to what he termed his "best room." Wyeth +looked with evident disfavor about the walls that were +heavy with cob webs, while the windowsill was as heavy +with dust. Jackson, following his gaze, hastily offered +apology and excuse.</p> + +<p>"Eve'thing needs a little dusting up, and the reason +you happen to find things as you do, is because I've +been so busy with politics of late, that I have jes' nach'elly +neglected my business".</p> + +<p>Ah! That was it, thought Sidney. He had felt this +man was in some way out of the ordinary. "So you're a +politician?" he queried, observing him carefully now.</p> + +<p>"You hit it, son," he chuckled. "Yeh; that's my line, +sho." Turning now, with his face wreathed in smiles, +he continued: "Big 'lection on in a few days, too."</p> + +<p>"So I understand," said Sidney. "I shall be glad to +talk with you regarding the same at your convenience +later," and, paying him for the room, they betook themselves +to the street.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> + +<p>Election day was on, and Jackson was the busiest man +in town. He was what may be called a "good mixer," +to say the least, and Sidney and he had become good +friends. So said Jackson that morning.</p> + +<p>"Got a big job on t'day, kid; yeh, a big job."</p> + +<p>"So...."</p> + +<p>"Yeh; gotta vote thirty-five ah fo'ty nigga's, 'n', 'f +youah 'quainted wi' ouh fo'kes, you c'n 'preciate what +I'm up ag'inst."</p> + +<p>"Indeed...."</p> + +<p>"Yeh; nigga's o'nry y' know; and lie lak dogs; but +I'm 'n' ole han' at the bus'ness, cause that's my line. +Yeh. Been votin' nigga's in this precinct now fo' mor'n +thi'ty yeahs, so you'n see I autta know what I'm 'bout."</p> + +<p>"I'd bet on that."</p> + +<p>Jackson chuckled again. "The fust and wo'st difficulty +is the dinge's ig'nance". Drawing a sample ballot from +somewhere, he displayed and explained it at some length. +"Now we gotta pu'ty faih line up on this ticket this +trip—'co'se the's a lotta suckers on it that I'd lak t' see +scratched; but we cain' affo'd to take the risk, 'cause it's +lak this. Nigga's so ig'nant 'n' pig headed they'd sho +spile it all 'f we tried to have them do any scratching. +So the only sho thing is to instruct them t' vote straight. +Get me, Steve?"</p> + +<p>Wyeth, listening carefully, nodded, and for a moment, +a picture of the titanic struggle of a half century before, +rose before him; its cause, its moral and more; it's +sacrifice. Jackson was speaking again.</p> + +<p>"Now we sho gotta win out this time; this 'lection has +<i>got</i> to put in ouh candidates; 'cause 'f we don't—and this +is between me 'n' you 'n' that can a beah—things sho +go'n break bad wi' me! But 'f things slide through O.K.—'n +my candidates walk in, it means a cole hund'd +fo' muh; think of it," he repeated, "a cole hund'd, Ah!" +And, smacking his lips after a long draught of beer, he +emitted an exclamation to emphasize what it <i>would</i> +mean to him, that wouldn't look very nice in print.</p> + +<p>"What do these <i>others</i> get if your candidates are +elected?" asked Wyeth, when Jackson paused.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Aw, <i>them</i> suckers gets theahs wether my men's 'lected +a' not. That's always my goal. 'f I could get them t' +vote so much ah' nothin' I could make a who' lot mo'; +but we gotta fo'k out two dollahs a piece, win or lose—and, +a co'se, plenty of liquah; but we don' give a damn 'bout +that, as the saloon men furnish that, gratis."</p> + +<p>"And you can depend upon them to vote as you wish—rather, +instruct?" ventured Wyeth. At this Jackson +gave a low, short laugh as he replied:</p> + +<p>"That's whe' I plays the high ca'd 'n' gets a hund'd," +and, laughing again in that peculiar fashion, he would +say no more.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The polls had closed. Darkness had settled over the +city. The saloons had opened their doors. From the +streets came forth hilarious sounds, where the many hundreds, +now steeped in liquor, reeled about. This confusion, +mingled with the crash of heavy wagons, and horse +hoofs hurrying over the cobblestones, filled the damp +air with an almost deafening noise.</p> + +<p>Sidney Wyeth lay stretched across the bed in his room, +listening idly to the sounds that echoed and re-echoed +through the frame building. Presently, his attention was +attracted by another noise, familiar, but more noticeable +on this day.</p> + +<p>"T-click-i-lick-ilick—ah—ha dice! T-click-ilick-i-lick—ah—ha +dice!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, shake'm ole nigga, shake'm!"</p> + +<p>"Yeh. Roll 'm out. Don' let 'm spin 'roun' on d' +en' lak dat! Shake'm up. Make music!"</p> + +<p>"T-click-i-lick-i-lick—ah—ha dice!"</p> + +<p>"Trowed eight!"</p> + +<p>"Dime he'n make it!"</p> + +<p>"Make it a nickel!"</p> + +<p>"Ah fate yu'".</p> + +<p>"Hu'ry up, ole shine! Git yu' bet down."</p> + +<p>"Shoot um!"</p> + +<p>"T-click-i-lick-i-lick—ah, ha dice!"</p> + +<p>"Two bits 'ell seben!"</p> + +<p>"Ah got yu'!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + +<p>"T-click-i-lick-i-lick-ah, eighty day-es!"</p> + +<p>"Cain' make eight wid a one up!"</p> + +<p>"Do'n' try no kiddin'."</p> + +<p>"T-click-i-lick-ilick—ah—eighter from Decatur!"</p> + +<p>"Make music nigga, make music!"</p> + +<p>"Two bits I'n pass!"</p> + +<p>"Ah got yu'!"</p> + +<p>"T-click-i-lick-i-lick—ah—eighty day-es!"</p> + +<p>"Trowed seben!"</p> + +<p>"Gimme d' craps!"</p> + +<p>"Now, dice; ah-seben ah 'leben!"</p> + +<p>"Throwed craps!"</p> + +<p>"Hole on! Hole on! You caught dem dice, ole nigga!"</p> + +<p>"Caught Hell! You trowed craps, d'y 'e heah! Two +big sixes!" A scrambling, mingled with much swearing, +ensued.</p> + +<p>"Say, cut out dis awgun' 'n' squabblin'," interposed +one.</p> + +<p>"'E cain' take mah money lak dat," protested the loser.</p> + +<p>"'F you don' git y' rough mit offa dat coin, yuh big +lump a dough, I g'in' finish spreadin' dat nose ovah y' +face!"</p> + +<p>"I'on lak dis-a-way a messin' wi' mah jingle!"</p> + +<p>"Youse a cheap nigga, Bad Eye, 'n' y' know it. You +all time buttin' int' a game wid about a dime, den sta'tin' +a big argerment."</p> + +<p>"Hush! Ain' dat Jackson a-comin'?"</p> + +<p>Silence for possibly a minute. A muttering began to +go around as they schuffled about.</p> + +<p>"Ah done ca'ied out mah 'structions 'n' now ah wants +muh dough-rine," some one spat out ominously.</p> + +<p>"Me, too," said another.</p> + +<p>"Aw, be patient. Jack's all right," argued one.</p> + +<p>"Sho", echoed another.</p> + +<p>"Yeh, dat' all right, 's fur it goes; but I'n handle mah +money bet'n anybody else."</p> + +<p>A heavy step sounded in the hallway, and presently a +door opened into the room, admitting Jackson.</p> + +<p>"All heah, boys, eh!" He said in a voice that revealed +high spirits. "Good—what's this? Havin' a little game<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +already? Say! Looks like y' might a-waited fo' old Jack, +ha ha!"</p> + +<p>"Well," he resumed after a general laughing, "Did +eve' body vote straight?"</p> + +<p>"Sho", they cried in chorus.</p> + +<p>"N' how 'bout you, little breeches."</p> + +<p>"Ke-heh! You say. 'Stamp ri' undah da' ole elephant's +tail'; so when I got 'nside da' place wi one a dem ballets, +'n' all dem names ah did'n' know nothin' 'bout; but I +'memb'd what you say, so I jes' caught hole that li'l ole +thing 'n' went, bim! ri' unda' da' ole elephant's tail, +ya-ha!" The room, for a time, resounded with laughter.</p> + +<p>Just then, Wyeth heard someone rap at the street door, +enter, and presently the counting and the clink of coins +came to his ears. Then the door closed, and a moment +later, retreating foot steps were heard in the hall-way. +It was the lieutenant. And now the gurgle of throats +could be heard plainly, and the game was resumed, with +Jackson in charge.</p> + +<p>In the other room, Wyeth stripped himself and retired, +and, ere sleep came to him that night, he again had a +vision of that titanic struggle and its human slaughter—and +it had all been to give those black men the right. (?) +Far into the night he thought it over, and when sleep did +come at last, he went into slumberland, at a loss to know +whether to condemn or to pity those poor creatures, who, +that day—and before—had sold their birthright for a +mess of pottage.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Weeks had passed. Over all the north country, snowladen +fields frowned. Zero weather was felt in many +places. Sidney Wyeth was about to quit it for a place +far to the south, and at that moment, sat in the union +station at Columbus. A man marked with a chalk upon +the bulletin board the following:</p> + +<p class="center">TRAIN FOR CINCINNATI AND THE SOUTH, TWO HOURS LATE</p> + +<p>And it was only then it occurred to him that a letter +might be at the postoffice for him. Forthwith he betook +himself, returning shortly with a small envelope, with +his name written daintily across it in a feminine hand<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +It was from Mildred Latham, the girl he loved, and the +heroine of our story.</p> + +<p>"Mildred, my Mildred!" he whispered softly, as he +gazed fondly at the epistle, and then broke the seal and +read it. "Tonight, my dear," he dreamily whispered, "I +shall ask you to become my wife, for I love you, love +you, love you!"</p> + +<p>As he sat waiting, his thoughts went back to the time +he had met her, and the place.</p> + +<p>It was in Cincinnati, and before the election. He had, +while canvassing, come upon her in the door-way of a +house with two stories, and a door that opened upon the +street. She stood in that door-way, and he had approached +her with much courtesy, and after his usual explanation, +had sold her <i>The Tempest</i>. He had been struck at +once by her appearance, and something about her expression—her +obvious intelligence. She seemed possibly +twenty-one or two. "And such features," he breathed +unheard. She also had, he quickly observed, a wonderful +skin—a smooth, velvety olive, with round cheeks; +where, notwithstanding the slight darkness, a faint flush +came and went. As to size, she was not tall; and still +not short; nor was she stout or slender; but of that indefinite +type called medium. Serenely perched, her head +leaned slightly back. She had a frank face and rounded +forehead, from under which large, lustrous, soft dark eyes—somewhat +sad—gazed out at him. And as he continued +in his subtle observation, he was pleased to note that her +nose was not large or flat, but stood up beautifully. Her +lips were red as cherries. The chin was handsomely +molded and firm, but slightly thin, and protruding. +Her hair was the most captivating of all. Done in the +fashion, it was coal black and wavy. It was of a fine, +silken texture, and apparently long, from the size of the +knot at the back of her head. All this he observed with +favor. He had never seen a figure so clear cut. The girl +was, furthermore, dressed in a plain, dark silk dress, with +small feet, the toes of which, at that moment, peeped like +mice from beneath the trimly hanging skirt. Now, before +he had gotten far in his dynamic spiel, the sun, all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +red and glorious, as its rays slanted in the west, came suddenly +from beneath a cloud, and played hide and seek +upon her face. And, in that moment, he saw that she +was exquisitely beautiful.</p> + +<p>After this, he had seen her when, and however it was +convenient, and they had talked—they always talked—on +so very many subjects. As time went by, he always +felt good cheer, for at last, it seemed—and this meant +much, for Sidney Wyeth had had much experience—he +had met the One Woman.</p> + +<p>One day she said to him, and it was in a tone that was +very careful: "You wrote <i>The Tempest</i>, didn't +you?" She had guessed his secret, although the book +had been published anonymously—and he had always +been guarded as to its author, so he replied somewhat +awkwardly that he had.</p> + +<p>"I felt it—was sure when I began reading," she said. +"Because there is something in it about you that you +never tell—in conversation, but you did in the book."</p> + +<p>He was silent, for he knew not what to say at that +moment. She resumed:</p> + +<p>"Yes; and it is that which makes the book <i>so</i> interesting—and +so sad." She fell silent then for a time, +apparently engrossed in deep thought, but with worried +and sad expression.</p> + +<p>There were other times she had appeared sad; times +when he felt she could have been happy and cheerful and +gay. And that to him was ever a mystery. He wished +he could help her out of that way—at any time.... +Some day he would, too. He was firm in this....</p> + +<p>Then came the time when he was to leave, and he passed +her way that day. From across the street she saw him, +and came at once with hands outstretched; but when +he made known the fact of his proposed departure, she +was downcast, and sorrowful and sad.</p> + +<p>"I'm <i>so</i> sorry," she said—and meant it. He was too, +and said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I shall miss you—oh, ever so much."</p> + +<p>"I will you, too," he whispered. She looked up quickly, +but what she saw in his eyes made her as quickly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +turn away. They entered the house and the parlor +where it was dark for day-time, and sat together for a +long while in silence. Presently, from the next house +came the notes of a piano, and some one sang <i>Sweet +Genevieve</i>. O, subtle art! It made them both feel sad. +Impulsively he arose and caught her in his arms, when +the music had changed to <i>The Blue Danube</i>. Around +then, and around they waltzed, light-footed to the sweet +old tune. And as they danced, both seemed to become +strangely infected with a wild exhilaration. Entranced, +he unconsciously sought her eyes with an awakening +passion, and saw that she had been transformed by the +music, and perhaps the dance, into a wild, elfin-like +creature, and he looked away.</p> + +<p>Minutes went by like seconds and, after a time, he +dared seek her eyes again, only to see that she had +grown more elfin still. And, as abruptly as it had begun, +the music stopped, and their dance ceased. They stood, +however, as though forgetting the embrace, and thus +heard each others hearts thump violently. One moment +they stood thus, and then a breath of wind through the +open window, lifted a stray lock of her hair and laid it +against his cheek. He was intoxicated by its effect, and +then suddenly he had lost all composure. He crushed +her to him, close, closer, and, in bold defiance of all +conventionality, he kissed her lips—once, twice, three +times! She was not angry, but struggled, nevertheless, +to be free. She heard his voice then, low, strained, +palpitating, and with soul on fire: "Mildred!" Again +he cried, "Mildred! O, my Mildred!" She swayed helplessly. +"I——", but she got no further. He had +caught sight of her eyes, helpless; but with a weak +appeal, as her lips faltered:</p> + +<p>"Please don't!" And in spite of his mad desire, and +the words he could have then sung like the poets, he +hesitated, and for some reason, for which he could not +quite fully account, allowed her to disengage herself.</p> + +<p>Freed now, she took several steps, and when at some +distance she paused, and regarded him with forced +defiance; but behind it, he caught again that sad dis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span>traction. +"What is it," he uttered, almost aloud. And +then, intuitively, he knew she was unhappy—aye, miserable. +"I must help her," said he beneath his breath; +but before he had decided how, he seemed to hear a +voice saying: "No, not yet because,—well, <i>you</i> can't!"</p> + +<p>The strains of music again came floating through the +open window. He was not aware of his gaze; but something +in his expression seemed to inspire her confidence; +for, involuntarily she turned and started in his direction. +She took only a step or two, when she abruptly halted; +paused hesitatingly, uncertainly, with her thin lips compressed, +hands clinched, and her head thrown back in an +obvious effort. But her throat swelled almost to choking, +as she withheld something she seemed mad to say. An +expression of superhuman effort seemed suddenly to be +exerted, and suddenly whirling, without a word, she +silently quit the room.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He was aroused now from his revery by "All a-bo-ar-d: +Cincinnati and the South," and an hour later, he was +whirling southward over snowladen fields to his Arcadia.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Cincinnati rose about him at eight o'clock that evening, +as he emerged from the union station and started on his +fateful quest. The snow, ground to slush by thousands of +wheels, made the hard streets filthy. He scurried across, +and caught a car that took him within two blocks of +where she lived. Progress was slow, but only seemingly, +for he was so impatient. It seemed fully an hour before he +left it, although it was not fifteen minutes. Along the +poorly lighted street he rushed in breathless haste. His +heart kept up a tattoo that disturbed him, and he heard +himself muttering: "Sidney Wyeth, what's the matter? +Why do you feel this way? Pshaw! You ought surely to +be happy, calm and imperious. Mildred Latham loves +you—and she needs you; but much she does with such +nerves!" He braced himself as he neared the house, and +pictured himself in the next hour. She would be in his +arms—and all would be over—but the happiness. This +picture became so vivid, that for a time it served to +make him forget his nerves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> + +<p>And now he had come unto the house, the house of his +treasure, and within all was silent. Strangely, a feeling +came over him of an approaching doom. Before him, +shivering in the cold night, sat an old woman, a hag. She +looked at him out of one evil old eye, and he shuddered +noticeably. She was uncouth and unwelcome. "What's +she doing here?" he muttered.</p> + +<p>"Does—ah—Miss Mildred Latham live here?" He +ventured at last.</p> + +<p>"Yes," snapped the hag, and appeared more evil still.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he murmured with forced courtesy, but +very uneasy. Drawing his card, he held it out to her, +with: "Kindly take this and inform her that a gentleman—a +friend—would be glad to speak with her." The +old hag crushed it in her bony palm, and spat out five +short words.... But, oh, what mean, cruel, hurting +little words!</p> + +<p>He reeled in spite of his strength, then stood like a +statue, frozen to the spot.</p> + +<p>The night was cold, and dark and dreary; but to +Sidney Wyeth it was hot—suffocating in those next +moments. His jaw dropped as he started to speak, but +the words failed to come. After a time, the elements began +to clear, but left him weak. He turned with a savage +gripping at his heart, and stumbled back in the direction +from whence he had come.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mildred!" he wailed. "Mildred, Mildred! I +can't believe it.... I can never, oh, never——and +I loved you so!" On and on he went; at times walking, +other times stumbling; but always uttering incoherent +sentences. "It can't be true—it <i>isn't</i> true! That old +hag—spiteful creature," he now growled distractedly,—"lied! +I'll go back, curse her! I'll go back and prove +her the liar she is." He halted, staggered drunkenly +against a building, and then abruptly turned his face in +the direction from whence he had come. But, 'ere he +had gone far, he desisted. Believe those words or not, +something forbade this step. Weaker than ever, torn, +distracted, and mentally prostrated, he paused and leaned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +against a building, and for a long time gave up to utter +misery.</p> + +<p>Our pen fails here to describe fully those conflicting +moments. All that he had lived for in those days, +and all that he had recently hoped for, seemed to have +been swept forever from him in that one moment. After +an interminable spell of mental blankness, a sentence he +had once been fond of quoting, and which he had taken +from Haggard's <i>Pearl Maiden</i>, came back to him out of a +remote past. It was this: "With time, most men become +used to disaster and rebuff. A colt that seems to break its +neck at the crack of a whip, will hobble at last to the +knacker, unmoved from a thousand blows rained upon +him." So, presently, with a tired, wearied sigh, he gathered +himself together, and, with a last despairing look in +the direction of the fateful number, he passed down the +dark street, and disappeared in the direction of The +Jackson House.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Wonder what's the matter wi' d' kid t'night?" said +Jackson to his consort, as she looked up inquiringly when +he re-entered the room, after showing Wyeth to his bed.</p> + +<p>"I wonder", she commented thoughtfully. "He's +always so cheerful and pleasant when around. He +walked in here like a ghost tonight. Now I wonder what +is the matter?"</p> + +<p>It was late the following morning when Jackson chanced +to be passing, and peeped into the room occupied by his +friend, who had acted so strangely the night before. The +coverlets had not been turned back, altho the bed was +sunk in the middle, as if someone had tossed restlessly +about over it the night before. Jackson wondered again. +But at that hour, Sidney Wyeth was on a train that was +speeding southward into Dixie.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>So it happened that the hero of this story went +forth into a land which is a part of our country.... +A part wherein people and environment are so far +different from the rest, that a great problem is +ever an issue. This is the problem of human beings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +versus human beings. A land wherein one race vies with +the other; that other being a multitude of black people, +and, as one who reads this might know, a people who, +once upon a time had been slaves, chattels, and who +for fifty and a few years have been free. That time, +however, has not been, as we might appreciate, sufficient +to eliminate many things hereditary.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>And what came to pass upon this journey; the things +he discovered, the one he again met, of what had resulted, +due to the machinations of a pious, evil genius, is the +story I have to tell.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWO" id="CHAPTER_TWO"></a>CHAPTER TWO</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Attalia</i></p> + + +<p>"Heah! Heah! Don't get on that cah!" cried the +conductor the following morning, as Sidney Wyeth was +climbing aboard the Jim Crow car of the <i>Palm Leaf +Limited</i>, bound for Attalia. He backed up and looked +about him in some surprise, and than demanded the +reason why he shouldn't get aboard that "cah".</p> + +<p>"I thought I tole you once we had an extra heavy +train, and no colored passengers allowed; but since I see +yu', now I see you ain't the same fellah that was here +awhile ago." And then, in a few words, he explained +that, owing to the rush of people to the south during +those first days of January, the Jim Crow section of the +train had been dispensed with for that day. He explained +further that a second section of the same train would +follow shortly. As it would, in all probability, pass them +at Lexington, Sidney, with a mumble of thanks, gathered +up his grips and returned to the waiting room, catching +the same an hour later.</p> + +<p>Kentucky soon lay before him. As far as eye could +see, a snowy mantle covered the ground, for it was winter. +Presently, countless rows of frame buildings appeared. +A new brick station, which extended for some length +along the track, gave the traveler welcome.</p> + +<p>When the train came to a stop, Sidney's attention was +arrested by the sight of a creature that may have been +called a man, but gave every evidence of being an ape.</p> + +<p>"I wonder," said he, to a fellow passenger, "do those +things grow 'round here?"</p> + +<p>They both enjoyed a laugh.</p> + +<p>He was now in a land in which a portion of the people, +apparently, possessed little sense of humor, judging from +the way his jokes were accepted.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> + +<p>On the car were two women, among the half dozen or +so colored passengers. Sidney overheard one of them say +to the other:</p> + +<p>"I'm from No'th C'lina; but I be'n in Oklahoma two +ye's. I'm go'n back home t' stay. Whe' you from?"</p> + +<p>"Tennessee, Knoxville. I'm livin' in Bloomington, +Illinois, now."</p> + +<p>They looked inquiringly in the direction of Wyeth, and +presently he was drawn into the conversation. The latter +possessed fine sense of humor, and when he found these +people so serious, he took delight in joking.</p> + +<p>"Whe' you from?" they inquired, with all that is +southern and hospitable in their tone.</p> + +<p>"From the <i>Rosebud Country</i>, South Dakota," he replied. +Their faces were a study. Somewhere in the years gone +by they might have heard of that state in school, but +the <i>Rosebud Country</i> was Greek to them.</p> + +<p>"O-oh," they echoed, and then looked at each other +and back at him. Presently one of them inquired: +"Where is that?"</p> + +<p>"In Africa," he answered, but they did not catch the +joke, and to this day, they speak of the man they met +from the Dark Continent.</p> + +<p>At that moment, the train was crossing a stream over +the highest bridge Sidney had ever seen, with possibly +one or two exceptions. It seemed a thousand feet to the +crystal water below, and every eye was fixed upon it. +The porter, a long, lank, laughing creature, scion of the +south and <i>some</i> porter, seeing an opportunity to draw +attention, rushed up in a Shakesperian pose, and related +dramatically, the incident of an intoxicated man, who, +while crossing that very stream, fell, of a sudden, smack +dab over-board, right into it. In concluding, he looked +about him more dramatically than ever, as the many +"O-ohs," and "Mys!" greeted his terrible story. And +Sidney Wyeth, with eyes wide open, inquired if he got wet.</p> + +<p>"Jes' listen at that," they cried in chorus, and the joke +was lost.</p> + +<p>Down, down the train whirled into the bowels of Dixie. +Far away to the east, rising gray and ghostlike above the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +mists, the pine covered Cumberland Range appeared and +reappeared in the distance. Outlined like grim sentinels, +the scene, to the hero of this story, recalled the many +tragedies of which those mountains were the back-ground. +The moon-shiners, the feudists, the hill-billies and the +rough-necks, always had a haven there.</p> + +<p>The puffing of many, many locomotives, the sight of +buildings, and the glare of electric lights gave evidence +that they had reached a large city. Chattanooga, city +of southern trunk lines, and railroad center, now greeted +his eye.</p> + +<p>He spent one night there, and the next day, resumed +his journey toward that most conspicuous of all southern +towns, Attalia. It was a hundred and fifty miles and +more by rail. The train became more crowded as it neared +his destination, while the people grew more cosmopolitan. +One of these, a black man, entered at one of the many +stations, and greeted Wyeth pleasantly, inquiring where +he was headed for. Wyeth answered Attalia, and his +companion became very sociable.</p> + +<p>"Understand," said Wyeth, after a moment—the other +had possessed himself of a portion of the seat upon which +he sat—"that Attalia is one of the best towns in the +south, and has one of the finest stations in the country."</p> + +<p>"La'gest 'n' finest in the wo'ld," said the other, with a +show of pride. He was a resident of the state of which +Attalia was the capital, and was, furthermore, a preacher. +Wyeth didn't care to argue, so let it <i>be</i> the largest and +said:</p> + +<p>"That's wonderful! I hear also, that it is a great +commercial center as well, and that the city is growing +like a mushroom."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yeh," said he. "Out-side Noo Yo'k, it's the +busiest and best town in the United States. Yes, yeh," +he went on thoughtfully, "Attalia is sho a mighty city. +Eve' been theah?"</p> + +<p>"Not for more than ten years," replied Sidney.</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Well, well, I mus' say you'll ha'dly recognize +it as the same."</p> + +<p>They were now approaching the embryo city. Clouds<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +of smoke, and the whistling of innumerable locomotives +filled the air. Wyeth began making preparation to leave +the train, when the other touched him, saying: "No +hurry, my deah suh, no hurry. Be's a long time yet +befo' we 'rives in de station, be's a long time yet."</p> + +<p>"Well, well!" the other exclaimed, in some surprise.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Attalia's a mighty city, a great city. Wait until +you see Plum street 'n' the sky-scrapers."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the train had arrived, and stood outside the +station, through which it had just passed. It was indeed +a large and imposing structure. As it rose behind them, +under the bright sunlight, with its many cornices glittering +as so many diamonds, it was truly a city pride. From +where the train stood, the city lay like a great scroll, and +vanished in the distance. Smoke and dust filled the air, +and hovered over the medley of buildings like a dull, red +cloud. Rising in uncertain lines, as if to escape the +gloom, a line of sky-scrapers appeared in the background. +"Those must be on Plum street," mused Sidney, +as he looked about for a conveyance.</p> + +<p>Besides being the capital of the state, and the greatest +commercial city southeast of the Mississippi, Attalia is +the city of conventions, the southern center for insurance, +a progressive journalistic city, and a uniform town. It is +also a center for the education of Negroes, since it has a +number of colleges supported by northern philanthropy. +Yet the city is unable to maintain a proficient and complete +course of education for its many colored children. +Unfortunately for the Negroes, when the white schools +are amply provided for, not enough is left for the proper +training of its black population, which constitutes one-third +of the whole.</p> + +<p>Sidney did not fail to take note of the fact, as he +passed through the station, that, contrary to previous +reports, the colored waiting room was cleanly kept, +almost as well as that of the white race. White-coated +flunkies flitted about nimbly in prompt attention to the +weary traveler, in spite of an air of sleepiness.</p> + +<p>Presently, Wyeth made inquiry regarding conveyance. +No sooner had he done so, than he was deluged with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +solicitations from a score or more cabmen, who seemed +literally to raise out of the floor. They would take him +in jig-time anywhere he wanted to go.</p> + +<p>"But that's it," he said in a confused tone. "I don't +know exactly where I want to go."</p> + +<p>"Deed, suh, I c'n take yu' any wha', jes' any wha' 'f +you'll jes' name de place."</p> + +<p>Not being able, apparently, to make him understand +that he was a stranger, unacquainted with the city, he +presently settled on the charge, bundled in, and ordered +to be taken to the best colored neighborhood, and in a +few minutes he was being trundled on his way.</p> + +<p>They turned into a street, after a block or two, that +happened to be one end of the leading business thoroughfare. +On a corner post, Sidney read Walthill. The cab +took him up this street, surrounded on either side with +the many busy shops and people, and it continued until +a viaduct was reached. Attalia's broadway was just +ahead. It was a wide street, and yet not wide enough. +It had been made wider recently, and in making it so, +the sidewalks had perforce been made narrower. They +had not been sufficiently wide before, and now this threw +many pedestrians into the street, where they walked along +much slower than in Cincinnati even. As the cab rolled +along, Sidney observed that the street was considerably +wider after some distance, and this was the business +section. To the right and to the left, in fact in every +direction, buildings, brick and stone, concrete, stucco and +an occasional frame, stood, here low, there high, and still +higher, even to twenty stories. As he looked, the setting +sun played subtly about the topmost peaks. Presently, +the cab turned into Audubon Avenue.</p> + +<p>This street sloped down hill for many blocks, and when +the cab had made its abrupt turn further on, Sidney +observed a large, red, brick building with stone cornices +rising skyward. Adjoining this, he caught a glimpse of +the outline of still another building, apparently unfinished. +Strangely enough, he felt this to be the property of black +people. On down the street the cab rolled.</p> + +<p>It was a street quite wide enough, and paved in part<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +with cobble stones, and further on with asphalt. Glancing +from right to left, as he proceeded, he saw that it was +given over largely to business conducted by Negroes, +Jews, Italians and Greeks.</p> + +<p>Presently, his wandering gaze took in the proportions +of a small book shop, before which stood a tall, lean +Negro, whom he surmised rightly to be the proprietor. +In the window, displayed conspicuously and artistically, +were numerous books by Negro authors which he had +read, and, of course, some he had not.</p> + +<p>And still he was trundled on. His gaze met the sight +of a mammoth stone church, where he saw many colored +men standing about the front. Some were brown, while +others were yellow, and still others were almost white. +They were preachers, he knew, for all were fat. Only +preachers were always so, he recalled, and that's why +he knew. Across another street and on the same side, +they came abreast of the structure that had arrested his +attention before. The first portion rose to only two +stories, but was so artistically constructed, that it caught +his attention, and commanded his admiration. Next +to this, the other portion reached to six stories, and, +as he came to the front, he viewed it very carefully. +On one side of a wide entry, over which was written +many words which he could not decipher, was a first +class barber shop where black men were being shaved. +On the other side, a bank occupied much space, and this, +he observed, for the first time in his life, was conducted +by black people—no, they were between and betwixt, +but that does not matter, they belonged to that race. +At the rear he saw elevators moving to and fro, while +the entry was filled with these same folk. His bosom +swelled at the sight, for he was proud of his people.</p> + +<p>"Heah's a place you might look ovah, deah brudder," +said the cabman at last, as he halted before an old frame +structure, across the front of which was written in large +letters</p> + +<p class="center">THE BIXLEY HOUSE</p> + +<p>Sidney was not favorably impressed.</p> + +<p>"How you lak it?" asked the cabman.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nix," he replied. "Try another."</p> + +<p>The horse was turned about, and they journeyed back +over the same street from whence they had come. Two +blocks were thus covered, and then they turned into +a street that intersected, and stopped before another +place less impressive looking. At this point, the cabman +suggested a lady friend of his, who kept nice rooms, and +to this he was straightway driven. He was satisfied at +last, paid his fee, and in due time was fairly well installed.</p> + +<p>Sometime later, Sidney went forth on a tour of inspection. +The first place he decided to visit was the +book store, where he had seen the serious looking man at +the front. He turned out to be so, very much so, as +Sidney learned in after months. His name was Tompkins, +and he was very affable, even pleasant.</p> + +<p>"A-hem. Glad to know you, Mr. Wyeth," he said, +accepting the introduction. When Sidney stated the +nature of his business, he answered his many questions +very pompously, and further said, that the colored people +of the city had an inclination for literature.</p> + +<p>Sidney, however, began to feel, after more questioning, +that Tompkins was stretching things, and that his statement, +that the colored people were great readers, was +largely exaggerated. It was, as we shall see later; but +for the present, he thanked Tompkins, and promised to +drop in again.</p> + +<p>When he had dined at one of the many little restaurants, +he wandered back into the business section of the city. +He failed to recognize any of the places he had once +known, which proved conclusively that Attalia had +progressed. He found himself on Plum street again, +through which he walked and reentered Walthill, and, +after seeing many of the sights, entered a large book store, +where he inquired for a volume he had long desired to +read—rather, he inquired of a large, fat man, whether he +had it. The other looked around a spell, then replied:</p> + +<p>"We sho God has," and stood waiting undecidedly. +Presently he held it toward Wyeth, who, somewhat +hesitatingly, looked irrelevantly through the pages. He +was not sure, whether it was customary to take it in his +hands.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All right," he said, and reached in his pocket for the +money.</p> + +<p>"Do you-ah—wish it?" the other inquired, still +hesitating.</p> + +<p>"Sure," Sidney replied. "That's why I called for it." +He was obviously surprised, and expressed the fact in his +eyes. The other observed this, and made haste to +apologize:</p> + +<p>"Ce'tainly, ce'tainly. Beg yo' pa'don. Not many +cullud people buy works of fiction, or anything besides +an occasional Bible, school books and stationery. That +is why I was undecided whether you wanted to buy it +or not."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" echoed Sidney, taken suddenly aback. Then +said: "I read a great deal myself."</p> + +<p>The clerk observed him closely for a moment, and then +said: "You don't live in these parts?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"And you read a great deal? Where are you from?"</p> + +<p>He was told.</p> + +<p>"That accounts for it," said the other, proceeding to +wrap up the book.</p> + +<p>"Accounts for what?" curiously.</p> + +<p>"Your being a reader."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand.... Don't the colored people down +here read a great deal also?"</p> + +<p>"No," said the other simply.</p> + +<p>"Well, I declare!" said Sidney in surprise. "I have +only two hours or less ago, been told by a book-seller +that they do."</p> + +<p>"Lordy me! Who told you that?"</p> + +<p>"Tompkins. The—"</p> + +<p>"Tompkins is a booster. He's all right, though," said +the other, with a low, amused laugh. But Sidney's +curiosity was aroused, and he continued:</p> + +<p>"There's a multitude of teachers and preachers, and I +should think they would buy lots of current literature to +keep themselves informed for their work; but perhaps +they are not so well paid, and get it from the library."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +The other appeared perplexed for a moment, but said +presently, without looking up:</p> + +<p>"They have no library of their own, and the city +library is not open to colored people, but they do not +seem to be very anxious for books. The teachers, and +the preachers—" He threw up his hands in a gesture +of despair. "You'll find out for yourself. You are, I see, +a keen observer, and you'll find out."</p> + +<p>Sidney left the store in a reflective frame of mind. +"I didn't believe Tompkins," he muttered, as he walked +back in the direction of Audubon Avenue. Just then +he glanced to his left, into the largest barber shop he had +ever seen. It was for white people, but conducted by a +colored man. It was not only the largest he had ever seen, +but the finest, the most artistic. He forgot, for the time, +what he had just been told, and which was causing him +some concern, and again he felt his breast swell.</p> + +<p>There was much to be learned about his people that +he now realized he did not know; and yet, surrounding +it all was a peculiar mystery that he decided to solve for +himself. He did so, but that remains to be told.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THREE" id="CHAPTER_THREE"></a>CHAPTER THREE</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Next Day—Discoveries</i></p> + + +<p>At eight-thirty the following morning, Sidney set forth, +carrying a small case containing a half dozen books. His +purpose was to feel out the city from a practical point of +view. He had been told that the better class of Negroes +could be found by walking down Audubon Avenue, as +far as the residence section. So he followed it until the +business had been left blocks to the rear. At the end of +the paved street he turned into a house. It was a very +sumptuous affair, with an attractive lawn before it. He +was told by a passerby that it was the home of a club +waiter. He ventured up to the front door, and, upon its +being opened by a mulatto woman, apparently the +waiter's wife, he turned on his spiel. She listened to it +patiently, even speaking some words in praise, as he +explained the narrative in brief, but he failed to make a +sale. He tried more subtle arts, but in vain. And then +she told him frankly that their finances would not permit +her to purchase the volume. This excuse always made +Wyeth desist from further effort.</p> + +<p>He turned into the next house, and the next, and the +next, until a half dozen had been made, but with the same +result. Since he had invariably sold to three-fourths of +the people whom he approached, he was not nearly so +confident by this time. These people lived in and owned +homes that were a pride, and it was not that they did +not wish to buy; people so easily approached can be +expected, in a large part, to fall victim; but 'ere long it +became more clear to him. They were <i>not</i> able. It was +well that he perceived this; for hope of success was +small, if it depended upon purchasers here. Most of the +people he found in these homes were dependent upon a +very small salary. The cost of living was as high here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +as in the north, in fact, the ordinary commodities were +higher. The sums they were receiving would not be +considered sufficient to care for the same people in the +north, therefore, why should it here? This was contrary +again to what Sidney had always been told.</p> + +<p>Presently, he happened upon a letter carrier. No time +was lost here. This man was paid for his work, so he +forthwith became a victim of the most artful spiel, and +bought the book, cash. This served to spur Sidney to +renew his efforts, and he attacked those he approached +more vigorously. For a time he met with no more success.</p> + +<p>He had a lunch at a nearby restaurant, of pigs feet and +sweet potato custard. After an hour, he resumed his +efforts. And this began his discoveries.</p> + +<p>Entering a yard, he came up the steps of a house from +the back way. He passed a refrigerator, and crossed the +porch to knock at the door. But—a bottle of Kentucky's +John Barleycorn calmly rested upon this same refrigerator.</p> + +<p>The door at which he knocked was opened presently, +and he was invited to enter, which he did; but, when +leaving by the same way, after selling another book for +cash, "John" was gone.</p> + +<p>At the next house, his customer was a tall woman of +middle age and dark skinned. She drew him adroitly +into a prolonged conversation, and then bought the book.</p> + +<p>Now, Attalia is a <i>prohibition</i> town in a southern +<i>prohibition</i> state. Yes, it <i>is</i>—and it <i>isn't</i>. When Sidney +Wyeth left that house that afternoon, he had spent part +of what he received for the book, for beer and whiskey. +Moreover, he was told that more than seventy-five places +on Audubon Avenue were engaged likewise, and in the +city all—but that is a matter for conjecture!</p> + +<p>Obviously, <i>prohibition</i> did not <i>prohibit</i>—but more of +this later in the story.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>That evening, while dining, he became acquainted with +Ferguson and Thurman, who will, for a time, occupy a +part in the development of this plot.</p> + +<p>Ferguson was a preacher, but at this time—and for +some time—had not preached. He admitted painting to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +be more profitable from a financial point of view. He +complained, however, that if the "New Freedom" continued +in power much longer at Washington, and with +the way things "was a-goin'," he would have to give that +up and go back to pickin' cotton.</p> + +<p>"They ain' nothin' in preachin' no mo', that's a sho +thing."</p> + +<p>"I do not agree with you on that score," said Sidney; +"for, from what I have learned already in regard to these +parts, there must apparently be more money in preaching +than anything else, judging from the number of preachers. +And how fat they all appear!" Ferguson looked up +quickly at this remark, and as quickly down at himself.</p> + +<p>"I didn' get this flesh preachin', I assuah you," he +retorted, with flushed face. And after a pause, he went +on with some heat:</p> + +<p>"But that's what don' sp'iled preachin'; too many +lazy nigga's a-graftin offa de people!" But Ferguson, as +Wyeth learned later, was something of a pessimist, and +predicted all kinds of deplorable things. And it was at +this moment that a dejected creature made his appearance. +He was bald headed, bowlegged, but, notwithstanding +these possible deficiencies in his make-up, aggressive. +His name was Thurman, and, said he, between bites of +sweet potato pie:</p> + +<p>"Aw, nigga;—youah allus a-p'dictin'—som'thin' awful!—To—heah +you tell it,—since the democrats—has got +int' powah—cawse a buncha crazy nigga's—didn' know +how t' vote—at dat aih convention in Chicawgo—the +world is—liable to end tomorra'!"</p> + +<p>"It mought!—It mought;—'n' 'f it did—you be one—a +d' fust—t' bu'n in hell—too; but don't you 'dress me +lak dat no mo'—in sech distressful terms! You autta be +'shamed a-yo' se'f."</p> + +<p>And he munched pie for a time, uninterrupted by +speech.</p> + +<p>Thurman only grunted unconcernedly.</p> + +<p>"What are the prospects of the colored people down +here at the present time?" inquired Sidney, hoping to +relieve the tension; but he could have rested easily on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +this score, for, as he learned later, they carried on that +way every night. That was their diversion; but Thurman +was now heard from.</p> + +<p>"HELL!" he answered calmly.</p> + +<p>"Good Lawd man!" cried Ferguson shocked. "What's +comin' ovah you!"</p> + +<p>"Lyin' 'n' stealin'; drinkin' cawn liquah 'n' gittin' +drunk; bein' run in, locked up and sent to d' stock-ade +'n' chain-gang;" he resumed, ignoring Ferguson's shock +entirely. Whereupon, Ferguson looked more distressed +than ever; but only wrinkled his face in a helpless frown, +and said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Gee!" cried Sidney; "but that's an awful prospect." +All this time Thurman had not smiled, but accepted +everything as a matter of course, from the way he partook +of sweet potato pie.</p> + +<p>"You must not pay any attention to Mr. Thurman, +Mister," said the proprietress, from across the room. +She was a patient-faced, sleepy, short woman. And now, +for the first time Thurman moved in his seat, and took +exception to the words. Said he, somewhat loudly, and +emphasizing his words with a raised hand:</p> + +<p>"<i>Pay no 'tention! Pay no 'tention; wull I reckon yu'd +bettah. Hump</i>," he deliberated, pausing long enough to +fill his mouth with more potato: "<i>Pay no 'tention when +yu' know yu'se'f that Jedge Ly'les 's a sentincin' mo' +nigga's to the stock-ade 'n' chain-gang than he's eve' done +befo'. 'N' a good reason he has fo' doin' so too! Lyin', +doity, stinkin', stealin' nigga's</i>," he ended disgustedly.</p> + +<p>Presently, before anyone had time to deny his sweeping +assertion, he resumed:</p> + +<p>"Mis' M'coy, yu' know dem taters I got frum you +tuther night?"</p> + +<p>"I rember them quite well, Mr. Thurman," she replied, +resignedly.</p> + +<p>"I took them taters home 'n' put 'm in muh trunk, +locked it 'n' put th' key in muh pocket 's I allus do. +Now what yu' think happened?" he halted, and surveyed +the atmosphere with serene contempt. "That low +down li'l' nigga in th' room wi' me, sneaks int' that trunk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +wid a duplicate key, 'n' steal eve' last one'm! <i>Jes' think +of it!</i>" he emphasized, with a terrible gesture. "<i>Stole +eve' las' one uv'm! Then talk about nigga's!</i>"</p> + +<p>"We did'n' say nothin' 'bout nigga's would'n' steal, +man!" complained Ferguson. "You jes' nache'lly went +offa yo' noodle widout 'casion."</p> + +<p>During all this conversation, a girl sat opposite Sidney. +She was a dark, sweet-faced maiden, with an expression +that was inviting. Sidney, happening to glance for the +first time into her face, smiled and nodded. She smiled +back pleasantly. Ferguson and Thurman continued their +harrangue.</p> + +<p>"They are a pair," ventured Sidney, to no one in particular, +but the girl smiled and inquired:</p> + +<p>"Who are they?"</p> + +<p>"I never saw them before," he replied.</p> + +<p>She observed him closely, and said presently, in a very +demure voice:</p> + +<p>"Indeed. Ah—then—you don't live here?"</p> + +<p>"No," he answered, and told her.</p> + +<p>"O-oh, my," she echoed tremulously. "It must be +fine away up in the great northwest. And—do you +expect to be here—er, some time?"</p> + +<p>"For a few months at least." Whereupon she inquired +as to his business, and he likewise inquired of hers.</p> + +<p>"I am employed in service," she said.</p> + +<p>Now it happened that Sidney had, a few months +before, met an agent in Dayton, who persisted in canvassing +nowhere else but among this class. He thought +of this, and made inquiry. He was told in reply, that +practically all the domestics were colored.</p> + +<p>"I would like to see the book you sell," she said, +presently. "If you could bring it to the number where +I am employed, and if, after seeing it I am pleased with +it, I would buy one." He could not have wished for anything +better, and told her so. Elevating his eye brows +in pleased delight, he said:</p> + +<p>"I most assuredly will. Only tell me how I may get +there—I'll make a note of it," and he immediately did so.</p> + +<p>"Catch a Plum Street car," she directed, "and get off<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +at West Eleventh Street, walk a block and a half west +until you see a large house numbered 40. They are Jews, +so, should you lose the number, inquire for Hershes'. +You may call any time after two P.M."</p> + +<p>"I will be there tomorrow at that hour if the sun rises, +and if it doesn't, I'll be there anyway," he laughed. +She was amused.</p> + +<p>"All right," she said, and took her leave.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The next day was beautiful; the sun shone brightly, +and the air was soft and fragrant. Plum Street, besides +being the leading business thoroughfare, is likewise the +most imposing resident district, at its extreme end. +Large cars, modern and built of steel, thread their +way, not only to the city limits, but they penetrate far +into the country beyond.</p> + +<p>And it was aboard one of these modern conveyances +that Sidney Wyeth reclined, observing the size and +grandeur of the many magnificent residences, that stood +back from either side of the street in sumptuous splendor. +Magnolias and an occasional palm adorned the yards, +while green grass and winter flowers filled the balmy air +with a delightful odor.</p> + +<p>He alighted and found himself very soon in the rear of +No. 40. Success was his, for he sold to the girl, and three +more at the same number, and the next, and the next—and +still the next, until darkness came. Thus he came in +touch with people who were more able, and positively, +more likely to buy.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>A few days after this he dropped in on Tompkins.</p> + +<p>"Hello, my friend!" that worthy one said. "Why +haven't you been in to see me? I've been thinking of +you."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," said Sidney, in glad surprise. "I've been +too busy," he concluded shortly.</p> + +<p>"Too busy!" echoed the other in evident surprise. +And then he waited expectantly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure," Sidney smiled, looking over Tompkins' +supply of books, mostly Bibles, for such was the most +Tompkins sold, as he learned.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Been selling lots of books?..."</p> + +<p>"Hundred and sixty-five orders in eight days."</p> + +<p>"Great goodness," Tompkins exclaimed. He dropped +all work for a moment, and stood with mouth wide open. +Then he inquired artfully: "Have you <i>delivered</i> any?"</p> + +<p>"Fifty copies last Saturday and Monday."</p> + +<p>"<i>Man!</i> Are you telling me the truth!" he exclaimed +dubiously.</p> + +<p>"I <i>sell</i> books," Sidney replied calmly.</p> + +<p>Tompkins resumed his work in a very thoughtful mood. +Presently, as Sidney was leaving he called: "Say, drop +in and see me some day when you have time to talk—a +long talk. I'm <i>interested</i> in you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOUR" id="CHAPTER_FOUR"></a>CHAPTER FOUR</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>And He Never Knew</i></p> + + +<p>Weeks had passed. Mildred Latham could be seen +sitting dejectedly by the window of her small bed-room, +gazing down a street that led to the river. Every day +since that next day when she had been told that a man +had called to see her, and instinct told her it was Sidney +Wyeth, she had sat thus. On this day, however, things +were different. There had been a change—a great change +in her life; for she was today, and henceforth, free, in a +sense, but this is further along in the story.</p> + +<p>Presently she picked up <i>The Tempest</i>. This was nothing +unusual. Although she had read it in two days after +she had received it, she had, in the weeks that had just +passed, picked it up and reread certain parts of it. But, +as a change had come since the last time she held it, she +read it today with unusual interest. After reading for a +few minutes, she laid it aside, took from the table near +a map of South Dakota, and for a time studied the part +of it across which was written <i>The Rosebud Country</i>. +She allowed her mind to wander meditatively back to the +past. She saw this land as it was when the country was +young; when the bison and the native Indian held sway; +when mighty herds roamed across those plains, molested +little by the red man. She picked up the book and read +a little more. For scores of years they had lived and +died, and at the end of this regime, came the inevitable +white man, the greatest race of conquerors the world has +ever known, without doubt. And behold the change of a +few short years! Nature in wild profusion, then materialism +in the extreme. They, these conquerors, had almost +changed the world. And among those thousands that +crossed the densely settled prairies, and made conquest +of <i>The Rosebud Country</i>, were only a few black men.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +Judging from this book, they could be counted upon the +fingers of one hand. One of these was Sidney Wyeth.</p> + +<p>Yes, he had gone forth, hopeful and happy and gay, +and had become a Negro pioneer. So he began, and did +a man's part in the development of that now wonderful +country. Thus she imagined it, and felt it must have +been. It <i>could</i> not have been otherwise, because only +<i>men</i> went west, to the wild and undeveloped—and +stayed. <i>He</i> had stayed for ten years. How he spent +those years, Mildred Latham could imagine. Through +the pages of that narrative, she had followed his fortunes +to the climax—the culmination of a base intrigue. What +a glorious feeling it must be, she felt, to be a pioneer; +to blaze the way for others, that human beings ever +after, to the end of time, may live and thrive by the right +of others' conquest! He had plowed the soil, turned +hundreds of acres of that wild land into a state of plant +productivity, which should bear fruit for posterity. And +if Sidney Wyeth had in the end failed, in a way it was +only after he had done a man's part in behalf of others.</p> + +<p>But then came the evil.</p> + +<p>In the lives of all men, the greatest thing is to love. +Sidney Wyeth had hoped, at some time, to gain this +happiness, the love of a woman. Had he earned it? +Apparently not, from another's point of view. That was +all so singular, she thought, time and again. For +the evil creature, evil genius, was a preacher, a minister +of the Gospel. "I can't quite reconcile myself to that +part of it, yet I should," she mused, now aloud, "for <i>my</i> +father is a preacher."</p> + +<p>Mildred Latham's thoughts drifted from Sidney Wyeth +for a time, and reverted to her own life, and that of her +father, who was a preacher. Soon, they wandered back +to Sidney, to his life of Hell—the work of an evil power—the +torn soul upon its rack of torture—and finally the +anguish—always the anguish, followed by the dead calm +of endless existence.</p> + +<p>Yet during their acquaintance, he never spoke of the +past. No word of censure, or of unmanly criticism, +passed his lips.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span></p> + +<p>So Mildred Latham could feel in a measure relieved, +for she had secrets,—and she kept them all to herself, too.</p> + +<p>Directly, she shook off the depression, and rose to her +feet.</p> + +<p>"It is all settled," she said half aloud, and, going to +her trunk, laid the book in the tray, lifted the latter out, +and, reaching to the bottom, took up a small steel box +and set it on the dresser. She then inserted a small key, +opened it, and took therefrom a heavy, legal document. +Examining it for a time, she put it into her hand bag, +locked the box, returned it to its place, replaced the tray +and locked the trunk again. This done, she slipped into +a street suit, and, gathering up the handbag firmly, left her +room, locked the door, stepped into the street, and caught +a car that took her up town, where she alighted before a +mammoth office building. She entered this, took an +elevator and got off on the twentieth floor, entering the +office of a prominent law firm. This visit had been pre-arranged.</p> + +<p>An hour later, she left a large bank on the ground floor, +returned to her room, took the box from her trunk, and +replaced, not the legal document, but a long, green slip +of paper.</p> + +<p>"All is now settled on that score," she whispered +drearily, and then busied herself mechanically about the +room. Again she fell into that fit of meditation. She +could not—try as she might—shake off the despondency. +And always, in the background somewhere, lurked Sidney +Wyeth. Was this because she felt she would never see +him again? She couldn't, she knew, as she recalled her +secret.</p> + +<p>Suddenly she threw herself weakly across the bed, and +sobbed for hours. "Sidney, my Sidney," a careful +listener might have heard her lips murmur. But she was +alone. Perhaps that made it so hard, for she was alone +now, always alone.</p> + +<p>At last she got up and bathed her face, as she had done +many times before.</p> + +<p>Always, too, she had a presentiment down in her heart, +that somewhere or somehow, some day fate would be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +kind and send him again into her life. And then would +she be ready?</p> + +<p>O that persistent question!</p> + +<p>Now Mildred Latham was not a weak woman. Far +from it. In spite of the secret, which was ever <i>her burden</i>, +she was not the kind to give up without struggle. This +was perhaps the cause, in a degree, of the suffering she +endured. It was this sorrow which Sidney Wyeth had +observed, and wished to dispell. "If I could only have +permitted him to do so," she said, so many, many times. +But always <i>The Barrier</i>.</p> + +<p>"I will sell his book henceforth for my living," she +said to herself at the end of that day, as she had often +said before. "And in doing that, I shall ever live with +his memory—God bless him!" For Mildred Latham +loved Sidney Wyeth.</p> + +<p>And he never knew.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIVE" id="CHAPTER_FIVE"></a>CHAPTER FIVE</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>B.J. Dickson</i></p> + + +<p>When Sidney Wyeth's work among the domestics was +an assured success, he decided to rent desk space in the +large office building referred to, get a typewriter, do a +little circularizing, and concentrate his efforts upon securing +agents elsewhere, for the purpose of distributing his +work.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, one Sunday morning, after being told +that the custodian of the building could be found in his +office on the fourth floor, he betook himself thither.</p> + +<p>But let us pause for a moment, and retrace a long span +of years, that we may interest ourselves in the history of +this same structure. For it has a fascinating tale to tell.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Before freedom came to the black people of the south, +pious worship had begun. Despite the fact that it was +an offense to teach Negroes during that dark period, or +in any way to be responsible for allowing them to teach +themselves, many, nevertheless, did learn to read; and +perhaps because the slave-owners were inclined to be +God-fearing people, they did not, in a general sense, +openly object when they found many of their slaves worshipping. +So it happened that, since men were in the +majority of those who learned to read, the first channel +to which they diverted this knowledge was preaching. +And since, as above mentioned, they were not always +forbidden, worshipping the Christ among Negroes had +been practiced long before freedom came. Therefore, +after freedom, preaching became the leading profession +among the men.</p> + +<p>The reader is perhaps well acquainted with the pious +emotion of the Negro; our story will not dwell at length +upon this; but the fact that, to become a preacher as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +professional pursuit, was the easiest and most popular +vocation; and from the fact, further, that Negroes had +become emotionally inclined from fear in one sense and +another, so that it is inherent, preaching and building +churches swept that part of the country like wildfire.</p> + +<p>Of the different sects, the Baptist seemed to require +the least training in order to afford the most emotion. +All that was required, in a measure, to become a Baptist +preacher, was to be a good "<i>feeler</i>" and the practiced +ability to make others <i>feel</i>.</p> + +<p>History proves that people of all races (when still not +far removed from savagery) are inclined toward display. +This is an inherent nature of Negroes. Indeed, Negroes +of today, in many instances those who have graduated +from the best colleges, seem yet largely endowed with this +trait, as this story will show later.</p> + +<p>So, shortly after preaching and shouting became the +custom, another feature entered which permitted these +people more "<i>feeling</i>," and this was lodges, secret societies +and social fraternities. These, like everything else—omitting +possibly the extreme "<i>feeling</i>" exercised during +religious worship—was patterned after white custom; +but, insofar as the Negro is concerned, a great deal more +stress and effort and feeling was put into the things +mentioned. In a sense, they were the Negroes all.</p> + +<p>Naturally, these many lodges, etc., must have some +object. And that object for years, was irrevocably, to +care for the sick and bury the dead.</p> + +<p>Our story will be concerned with the United Order of +the AAASSSSBBBBGG, which, for the purpose of this +story, will answer as well as the real name, and will be +much easier to refer to.</p> + +<p>The AAASSSSBBBBGG, is one of the oldest lodges in +Dixie, having been in operation among the black people +for generations. And its great object was, until a few +years ago, to "ce'h fo' the sick 'n' bu'y the dead."</p> + +<p>In the course of events, there had been elected to a +very conspicuous position in this same lodge, a man with +a square jaw. He was of medium height and build, but +aggressive, very much so, in fact, a born fighter. Hap<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span>pily, +the latter trait was peculiarly necessary to the one +who held the office of grand secretaryship in this lodge—and +to this office Dickson fell heir.</p> + +<p>Now Dickson was no ordinary Negro. He was ambitious, +not the kind that is likely to be satisfied with +the past duties of the order. Because, and it might be +well to mention so strange a coincidence: This lodge had +not been able to spend all the money that had come into +the treasury for burial purposes. So the reserve totalled +$40,000 cash. It was confidentially whispered that the +officers, a united click, preceding Dickson, had calmly +planned, when this amount reached $50,000, to grab it +all, and start a colony—for themselves, of course, in +Africa. But, alas! enters Dickson, the determined, the +ambitious. And if anything can serve to disturb an +order like this, it is ambition. In all the years of its +existence, the slogan had been to crucify ambition religiously, +but Dickson crucified them. At this time, at +least, they were relegated to the scrub timber, where they +lay dreaming of a time never to return, for "the old order +changeth."</p> + +<p>In addition to the office of grand secretary, Dickson +was an editor, and before the moss-backs had realized it, +some years before, he was editing the official mouthpiece, +<i>The Independent</i>. They thought little of this, in fact, they +didn't care, because, in the first place, no one else cared +for that job; it required too much thought to edit a +paper that the members would be likely to read. <i>The +Independent</i> had come out at spasmodic intervals, reporting, +in detail, the death of Miss Sallie Doe, "a member +in good standing, who had met her Jesus on the altar of +evermore;" or, that Jim Johnson, another member, "had +been incarcerated in the county jail, along with many +others, for disturbing the peace;" or, that at the revival +at the Antioch Baptist church, of which Brother Jasper +was the pastor, "a soul stirring revival is going on with +scores 'gittin' right with Jesus'," etc., etc., etc. But its +greatest ambition, apparently, had been to come before +the people, guaranteed not to be read.</p> + +<p>So fancy, when, after getting control, Dickson "did it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +all over." <i>The Independent</i> became "<i>some</i>" paper. It +fairly ripped and snorted. It took up the instances of +officers that were sluggish and backward and slow, and +made great headlines. "Whew!" the members cried, +who had never read the paper before. While others +declared: "Ah allus knowed dat nigga's crazy!" But +everybody began reading the paper. They objected and +scrambled and stewed about what was said, called him +the biggest liar, bull-dozer, and everything else, but read +the paper. So the circulation doubled and trebled and +quadrupled, and then doubled all over again, until it +was reaching every "live" member of the order. Dickson +didn't care whether it reached the others or not, and he +told them so; moreover, he said—in not so many words, +but it was read between the lines,—that they could go to +Hell. They took the paper then.</p> + +<p>There came a time at last when the treasury was +reeking with Sam's good gold, and Dickson had more +enemies than could be counted readily. But Dickson +was wise. He had looked deeply into the condition and +inborn weakness of these black creatures, and had surmised +that they only patronized each other when they +mutually hated. If they loved one another, they were +allowed to starve to death undisturbed.</p> + +<p>He saw that Negroes would only build and occupy an +office when the white man refused to rent him anything +but the attic—and not even that sometimes. So, with a +flare, a blaze and a roar, out came <i>The Independent</i>, and +said that the AAASSSSBBBBGG lodge had decided to +erect an office building of its own. It was to be six stories +in height, of brick, with stone cornices, and what not. +Moreover, a picture of it completed appeared on the +front page of <i>The Independent</i>. That finished it! They +prepared to send him to the mad-house, and forthwith +gathered for that purpose, which was what Dickson +wanted. They arrived in twos, threes and fours, and then +in droves. To the tune and number of thousands they +came and were met (?) by a brass band! And away went +the music: "Ta-ra—ta—ta-ti-rip-i-ta-ta-ta-tu!" It got +into the Negro blood. Music, of all things, always has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +effect. Before they were aware of it, they were cake-walkin' +and doin' the grizzly bear, and it has also been +whispered confidentially, that two preachers, high and +mighty in the order, "balled the jack." The music +stopped for a spell. Through the crowd—the black +crowd—came a cry, "Arrah! Arrah! for the Negro, the +greatest race since the coming of Christ!" And it was +answered: "Arrah! Arrah! So we is. Who said we +wasn't!" "The white man!" came back the reply. +"He's a liah!" went back the words heatedly. "If so, +then," came back, "why do we continue to do our business +in his attic? Why?" This was a shock. But before +recovery, sayeth the cry: "$50,000 odd we have in the +treasury to care for the sick and bury the dead! With +$60,000 more we can have a building all our own, with +elevators and mirrors and a thousand things, with our +own girls to tickle the type and scratch on the books." +A wild dream flitted across the minds of these black men, +the underdogs, the slaves for a thousand years; their +wives, the cooks and the scrub women; their daughters, +the lust of the beast. And then from somewhere came +another cry. It was soft and low, but firm and regular. +It came from a body of women, black women. "With +our hands, from the white people's pot, we will give unto +thee thousands, and back again to the pots we will go +and slave, until our old bones can slave no more, and +pay, and pay until a mighty building, the picture of +which we have seen, shall stand as a monument to the +effort of BLACK PEOPLE!"</p> + +<p>And now there was a scramble to the front! It was a +scramble as had never been seen in Attalia before! +$60,000 was fairly thrown over the heads of one another +to B.J. DICKSON, the grand secretary.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Six months and a year had elapsed. And the monument +stood serenely in the sunlight, as Sidney Wyeth +came down the street that Sunday morn. To the side of +this monument stood another, imposing and grand, not +yet finished, but soon to be, and it had all come through +the indirect efforts of B.J. Dickson. They were not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +satisfied with the one, when they learned they <i>could</i> do +things, but needed another—so they subscribed the +necessary funds without effort, and built the other.</p> + +<p>Before entering, Sidney walked across the street and +viewed the structure from the other side.</p> + +<p>Thus he saw his people, as others see them.</p> + +<p>For his life had been spent, for the most part, in +white civilization.</p> + +<p>As he surveyed it carefully, he was relieved to find +that, to a stranger, there was nothing to indicate that +colored people occupied the building.</p> + +<p>An intelligent looking man came out of it, and, crossing +the street, bowed casually to Wyeth. The latter, returning +it, inquired regarding the building and Dickson, and +he was told the following:</p> + +<p>"Yes, while there are many who do not give Dickson +the credit, he is, nevertheless, the man who has made all +that possible."</p> + +<p>"Everything is well kept apparently," said Wyeth. +"That is unusual for our people."</p> + +<p>"That's Dickson," said the other. And then aside he +inquired:</p> + +<p>"Have you ever been through it?"</p> + +<p>"I am just going," said Sidney.</p> + +<p>"You should have done so during the week. Any +time before one o'clock Saturday."</p> + +<p>"Why one o'clock Saturday?"</p> + +<p>"Because everything ceases at that time."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," Wyeth commented in wide surprise. +"System?"</p> + +<p>"That's it. That's Dickson."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Does he have charge of everything?"</p> + +<p>"Indirectly, yes. That is, he does not own everything, +of course not; but it's like this: Do you observe how +everything is in order?" Wyeth did, and waited.</p> + +<p>"Well," resumed the stranger: "You can bet your +boots that it would not be that way, if it were left to +those in the buildings altogether. No; they would—some +of them—get into a fight, knock out a window or two, +and bring a pillow from home, to stick in the hole. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +first time it rained and blew in at the window, the plaster +would fall. Then, others, posing more than anything +else, would have a crap game going on and sell whiskey +on the side. As for the letters in gold which you observe +on the windows, they are Dickson's ideas. Negroes +would use chalk naturally. But Dickson won't stand +for anything like that. When anything is amiss, he goes +at them, as for instance, those stores in the front. Many +of the proprietors, when they empty a box, instead of +putting it to the rear, would stick it in the front, right up +where every passerby could see it. To augment it further, +they would allow dust and dead flies to collect. Cobwebs +too and perhaps, pile a few old rags up on the top of it. +But B.J. goes to them, as I said, invites them across the +street, and shows it to them. He takes them up to one +end of the building, and walks them to the other, and +allows them to see it as the casual observer would. If +he doesn't think or consider this sufficient, he takes them +up town, and allows their gaze to compare it with the +way things are conducted by the first class white people. +And then he says: 'Now just look at it! That's nigga's. +Nigga's proper. You conduct your place so that every +stranger, seeing the city and the sights, when he gets +before this building, realizes at one glance that Negroes +occupy it.'"</p> + +<p>Sidney laughed a low, amused laugh. The other continued:</p> + +<p>"That's why you see things as they are. Our people +are not bad to handle. They are, in fact, the most +patriotic of all races, and are surely anxious for the +success of each other, only they don't know it. They are +like a herd without a leader. Dickson's a leader over +there."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" thought Sidney, "that's where it comes in. +The race needs leaders!" Again the other was speaking.</p> + +<p>"Of course, we have a great many that would be +leaders, oh, yes, indeed! Over there in that building are +many who are pining their lives away. They are confident +they are leaders, and are exasperated because they have +no following. They hate the people because they are not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +awake to the fact. They declare, that they have <i>even +been to school and graduated from college and know everything</i>, +which <i>alone</i> should put them at the head. For +some peculiar reason, they cannot realize that leaders +are born, not made.</p> + +<p>"Now you leave the building and wander about over +the city, and you will find a score or more of these would-be +leaders, all with the same delusion in regard to themselves. +They include, for the most part, teachers, +preachers and doctors. They are so wrapped up in this +idea, that they are utterly incapable of appreciating what +the race is actually doing, and trying to do. Of these, +perhaps the worst are the teachers. This is probably +because they are paid by the county, and do not have to +cater to the masses for their support." He paused, and +extended his hand. "Glad to know you, stranger, and +good-by."</p> + +<p>Sidney Wyeth watched him disappear, and then +crossed the street to the building, and entered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIX" id="CHAPTER_SIX"></a>CHAPTER SIX</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Oh, You Sell Books</i>"</p> + + +<p>One beautiful day, the <i>Palm Leaf Limited</i> carried +another passenger southward, aboard the Jim Crow car. +It was Mildred Latham, and her destination required a +change at Chattanooga. Turning her course, however, +she went west and alighted at a town, happily located +upon the banks of the Mississippi. It was a large metropolis, +a fac-simile of a sister city, Attalia.</p> + +<p>Miss Latham left the depot at once, and proceeded to +Beal Street, which was entirely occupied by Negroes. +She entered a restaurant, but soon came out, and started +in search of a room. However, the land-ladies all told +her they preferred men, so she decided to look elsewhere.</p> + +<p>A car put her off at a corner far removed from Beal +Street. She passed down a clean, quiet street, lined on +either side by comfortable homes occupied by colored +people. She paused before a small but handsome stone +church. It was the First Presbyterian, so the cornerstone +read. To the side, and back from the sidewalk, +completely surrounded by vines, was the parsonage, at +least she took it for such. And so it proved to be. She +hesitated a moment, then, with an air of finality, she +opened the gate, entered the yard, and mounted the steps.</p> + +<p>The door was opened by a kindly lady, whom she +judged to be the pastor's wife.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, please," began Miss Latham demurely, +"but I am a stranger, recently arrived in the city, and +have been unable to secure lodging. I noted the church +next door, and surmised that, if this is the parsonage, +and if the pastor is in, he might assist me." She hesitated, +and for a time seemed at a loss how to proceed. In the +meantime, the other surveyed her critically. Strange<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +women were always regarded with suspicion. Finally +she replied kindly, swinging the door wide:</p> + +<p>"Come in, my dear child. You look tired and surely +need rest. You must have come a long way. The pastor +of the church you refer to is not in for the present, and, +I regret to say, is out of the city, and is not expected +back for several days. I am his sister, however, and will +help you all I can." She paused as she placed a rocker +at the disposal of the stranger, and relieved her of coat +and hat.</p> + +<p>"You are very kind," said Mildred gratefully. "I +hardly know how to thank you."</p> + +<p>"Please do not speak of it, my dear. As I am alone, +you may stay with me until you have found the kind of +place you desire." She was silent and thoughtful for a +moment, and then asked softly, "where are you from?"</p> + +<p>"Cincinnati."</p> + +<p>"I do declare!" exclaimed the other in mild surprise. +"I have relatives there; but I have never seen the city +myself."</p> + +<p>The stranger appeared relieved.</p> + +<p>"And do you expect to be in the city long?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot say. I am here to sell a book, <i>The Tempest</i>, +a western story, by a Negro author. And, of course, it +depends upon that, as to how long I shall stay."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you sell books." Mildred did not correct her. +"I used to sell books, and, indeed I liked it. I am fond +of reading. I am anxious to see the book you speak of +when it is convenient, since I have observed advertisements +of it."</p> + +<p>"It is a nice book," Mildred commented. "And as +soon as I can have access to my trunk at the depot, I +shall be delighted to let you see and read it."</p> + +<p>"I shall indeed be pleased, I assure you," the other +smiled back sweetly. "I am always so interested when +it comes to books, that I wish, when you have had something +to eat, you would tell me the story of <i>The Tempest</i>."</p> + +<p>"It will be a pleasure; but you need not fix me lunch, +for I just ate a short time ago, as I came from the station. +So, if you now wish, I will tell, in as few words as possible, +and as best I can, the story of this book.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The story opens up on the banks of the river, near +this city.... It concerns a young man, restless and discontented, +who regarded the world as a great opportunity. +So he set forth to seek his fortune.... Thus it began, but +shortly, it led through a maze of adventures, to a land in +the west. It is, perhaps, the land of the future; a land +in which opportunity awaits for courageous youths, +strong men, and good women.... This land is called +<i>The Rosebud Indian Reservation</i>. It lays in southern +South Dakota, and slopes back from the banks of the +'Big Muddy', stretching for many miles into the interior +beyond. It is a prairie country. No trees, stumps, +rocks or stones mar the progress of civilization. So the +white men and only a few blacks unloaded at a town on +or near the frontier. I think it is called Bonesteel. And +then the mighty herd of human beings flocked and settled +over all that broad expanse, claiming it by the right of +conquest.</p> + +<p>"Among these many, conspicuous at the front, was the +hero of this narrative. He came into a share, a creditable +share, and, although far removed from the haunts of his +own, and surrounded on all sides by a white race, he was +duly inoculated with that spirit which makes men successful.</p> + +<p>"Time went on, and in a few years there was no more +reservation, but it became <i>The Rosebud Country</i>, the land +of the optimist.</p> + +<p>"Then, of course, came to him that longing, that +dream, the greatest of all desires, the love of a woman. +But of his own race there were none, and he did not feel +it right to wed a white wife. But at last, he found one +of his own blood. She was kind, good and refined, but +in conviction she was weak, without strength of her own. +She loved him—as such women love, but to her father, +a preacher, she was obedient,—subservient. They lived +for some months in happiness, until that other—her +father—came to visit them. These two, her father and +her husband, differed, both in thought and action, and, +naturally out of sympathy. In short, they disagreed +upon all points, including the daughter, the wife, and at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +last the mother, for in time such she became. And that, +strange to say, instead of being the birth of a new freedom, +was the end of all things.</p> + +<p>"So o'er this land of the free there came a change, a +sad change, that led to the end, the end of <i>The Tempest</i>." +She paused, and allowed her eyes to remain upon the rug +before her, while the other listened for more. Presently +she said:</p> + +<p>"And was it her father—who stooped to <i>this</i>?"</p> + +<p>The other nodded and remained silent, with downcast +eyes.</p> + +<p>Mildred Latham could not have said more had she +wished—just then. A peculiar feeling came over her, +and her mind went back to a night not long before.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVEN" id="CHAPTER_SEVEN"></a>CHAPTER SEVEN</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>The Office of the Grand Secretary</i></p> + + +<p>When Sidney Wyeth walked into the office of B.J. +Dickson that Sunday morning, he found him alone, +engaged in reading. When a step sounded at the door, +he laid the paper aside and glanced searchingly at the +intruder. Wyeth saw before him, the man of determination: +the square jaw, the determined set of the neck; +otherwise he would not attract any particular attention +in a crowd. But this was B.J. Dickson, of whom he had +heard much since coming to Attalia, and even before.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Dickson?" he inquired, respectfully. The other +nodded, and pointed to a chair.</p> + +<p>"You have charge of the renting here, so I understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"I'd like to get desk space for the present, and later +on perhaps I might require an office."</p> + +<p>"I see," mused the other, surveying him meditatively. +"Well, we have nothing left in this building; but I think +there are two or three rooms not yet rented in the building +you have observed in course of construction. What +kind of business are you engaged in?"</p> + +<p>"Books," replied Sidney, simply.</p> + +<p>"M-m. Well, I can't give you any information as to +desk space. You can, however, see Morton tomorrow. +His office is on the second floor, the board of trade. He +can enlighten you on that score."</p> + +<p>"What do you receive for the rooms?"</p> + +<p>"$12.50 a month."</p> + +<p>"That is quite reasonable," said Wyeth. The other +looked up with a pleased expression.</p> + +<p>"You're one of the few who have made such a remark," +he commented.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Indeed! That would be considered cheap in my +section of the country," said Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"Where is that?"</p> + +<p>Wyeth told him.</p> + +<p>"Oh well, you come from a place where the people are +accustomed to something. These down here have been +used to nothing but an attic or an old frame shack, a fireplace +with wind blowing in at the cracks, and, of course, +cannot appreciate steam heat, electric lights, first class +janitor service, and other modern conveniences that go +with such a building."</p> + +<p>At this point, several men entered the room, most of +whom were distinguished looking, compared with the +average Negro. Wyeth was introduced to them, and +learned that two were physicians, one a dentist, another +a lawyer, and still another was a letter carrier. The +stranger was soon the object of their many questions. +They were answered deliberately, for Sidney Wyeth was +well informed.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of the colored people in the south, +now that you see them yourself?" he was asked. He +noted the pride and air of dignity along with the question.</p> + +<p>"I am considerably impressed with what I have seen, +I am sure," Wyeth began cautiously. "It is unnecessary +to say that this is probably the most commodious +structure owned and occupied by our people, in any +city. And, I have noted with a great deal of pride that +you have in the building, also, some half a dozen large +insurance companies, owned and conducted successfully +by members of this race. All of this and other creditable +things, too numerous to mention, count for much in the +solution of the race problem. Much more could be said +in praise, but I do not consider it necessary. And still, +with so much to their credit, there is much also to their +discredit—very much. I refer to this, since it is a thing +that can be remedied, and positively should be. To +begin with, the people as a whole, do not read nearly as +much as in the north, and are poorly informed in matters +of grave concern and of general interest." He paused, +and saw that they were puzzled. They were, all of them,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +taken aback. They looked at each other, and then began +to gather color and heat as well.</p> + +<p>Sidney Wyeth had stirred, by his last words, his criticism, +the hornet's nest.</p> + +<p>"And what, may I ask," inquired one of the physicians +icily, "has given you that impression?"</p> + +<p>"Well, many things," Sidney resumed calmly. "For +instance: I am in the habit of buying <i>The Climax</i>, which +is, as you know, published in New York, and edited by a +man who used to be professor of sociology in one of your +colleges. Now, in all the places I have been" (he didn't +refer to the north, realizing that it would cause more +argument not bearing on the discussion), "I have found +this magazine much in circulation among our people; +but here, at only one place have I found it. You appreciate +that the Negro population of this town is to +exceed, without doubt, sixty thousand. It receives but +fifty copies a month, and does not sell all of <i>them</i>—of +course there are annual subscribers; but, so there are +everywhere else as well."</p> + +<p>"Now—" all began with upraised hand, but Sidney +stopped them with:</p> + +<p>"I've made this remark, so hear me out, that I may +show that I am justified in making it."</p> + +<p>They were quiet, but impatient.</p> + +<p>"You have several large drug stores, doing a creditable +business in the city. Omitting a few operated by white +men in Negro neighborhoods, you will hardly find one +that does not carry a goodly stock of magazines for his +trade. Not a colored drug store carries one. Tompkins, +other than <i>The Climax</i>, does not sell any. Now, gentlemen, +with such a population as you have," (he was very +serious now), "is it consistent to believe that these black +people read in proportion to what they should, when +there is so little current demand for literature?"</p> + +<p>The outburst that followed this was too intense to +describe. The composure that was in keeping with their +appearance and training was, for the time, lost. Everybody +had something to say to the contrary, and, at the +same time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I have five hundred dollars worth of books in my +house," cried Dickson.</p> + +<p>"I take <i>The Climax</i>, and have since it began publication," +cried still another.</p> + +<p>"Derwin, its editor, is a traitor to his race, and I can +prove it," persisted another.</p> + +<p>"Theah ain' nothin' in it, nohow," yelled another +whose English was not the best.</p> + +<p>"It's the only magazine edited by, and in the interest +of this race," retorted Wyeth; "and has a circulation +more than double that of any other publication by +Negroes since freedom."</p> + +<p>"You northern Negroes think a whole lot of Derwin, +and are imbued with his point of view," cried Dickson; +"but we had him down here before he went north, and +we know him for what he is," and he looked about him +meaningly.</p> + +<p>The others gave sanction.</p> + +<p>"He's the author of the only book in sociology, that +stands out as a mark of Negro literature. The book is +a classic, and is one of possibly two or three from the pen +of a Negro since Dumas."</p> + +<p>It is difficult to foretell where the argument may have +ended, but Sidney slipped out. As the door closed behind +him, a mighty roar of indignation came over the transom. +"He's a liar." "He's crazy!" "Like all from that +section!"</p> + +<p>When these men met Wyeth afterward, and for some +time, they did not recognize him. He was not surprised. +They are, and the best of them, in a measure, still incapable +of accepting criticism as it is meant. Our story +will go to prove this more conclusively later on; but for +the present, Sidney Wyeth had made friends....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHT" id="CHAPTER_EIGHT"></a>CHAPTER EIGHT</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Henry Hugh Hodder</i></p> + + +<p>Weeks had passed, and a touch of spring time was in +the Dixie air. Sidney Wyeth's canvass was now assisted +by another, while from over the country he had secured, +here and there, an agent to sell the book. He found desk +space in an office on the second floor, hired a stenographer, +and filled the country with circular letters. +Perhaps fifty or more replies were received, a few with a +money order and requests for further information.</p> + +<p>Although most of the letters were sent to preachers +and teachers throughout the south, two-thirds of the +replies came from the north. From Boston, New York, +Chicago, and centers where literature is obtainable from +the libraries which are open to Negroes, more letters by +far came, than from the south where such is not always +available. And out of these, a few agents were secured. +But it seemed almost an impossibility to interest those at +the south in a subject of literature.</p> + +<p>One day, there came a letter from a small town in +Florida that amused Wyeth. It was from the secretary +of the board of trade. In reply to the circular inquiry, +requesting the names of the Negro preachers in that city, +it ran thus:</p> + +<blockquote class="small"><p><span class="smcap">My Dear Sir</span>: Replying to your favor of recent date relative to +the names of Negro preachers of this city. In regard to this, I am +compelled to say, that I cannot fully enlighten you, for this reason: +Everything with trousers appears to be a preacher, or, any one +who can spell "ligon."</p> + +<p>My gardener is a preacher, although he finds my work more +remunerative, apparently; but you could, however, write to him, +and he would, I feel sure, give you the desired information.</p></blockquote> + +<p>When Sidney appraised Tompkins of his failure to get +the cooperation of southern preachers, in his exploit, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +was advised that the preachers were working that "side +of the street."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>We cannot appreciatively continue this story, without +including a character that is very conspicuous in Negro +enterprise. That is the undertaker. He is always in +evidence. Mortality among Negroes exceeds, by far, +that among whites. This is due to conditions that we +will not dwell upon, since they will develop during the +course of the story; but in Attalia, there was one undertaker +who was particularly successful. He had the reputation +of burying more Negroes than any man in the +world. He had a son, a ne'er-do-well, to say the least, +and they called him "Spoon."</p> + +<p>Sidney, who at this time shared a room with Thurman, +became acquainted with "Spoon" one Sunday night. It +was at a "tiger," of which, as we now know, there were +plenty.</p> + +<p>Spoon had a reputation in local colored circles, as well +as his father; but Spoon's reputation was not enviable. +He was booziogically inclined, and reputed by those who +knew him, to be able to consume more liquor than any +other ordinary society man. Moreover, Spoon was +"some" sport, too; could play the piano, in ragtime +tune, and could also "ball the jack." He would lean +back upon the stool, play the latest rag, as no other could, +and at the end, cry: "Give me some more of that 'Sparrow +Gin!'"</p> + +<p>Wyeth and Spoon became close friends following their +first meeting, and Sunday nights, they would roam until +one or two in the morning. Spoon knew where every +"tiger" in town was; and, moreover, he proved it.</p> + +<p>Thurman, although two and fifty, was no "poke;" +but was a sport too. His began early Sunday morning. +One Sunday morn, as they lay abed, after the light of +the world had come back and claimed its own, Thurman +called to Sidney where the other lay reposing in the +pages of a "best seller." "Say, kid! how 'bout a little +toddy this mawnin'?"</p> + +<p>"I'm there," came the reply.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good!" exclaimed Thurman. "Guess, tho' I'll haf +to go after it, 's see you lost in a book all time. Gee! +Looks lak you'd lose your mind a-readin' so much." +No comment. "Guess that's why you got all these +nigga's a-argun' 'roun' heah though; cause you read and +they don't. M-m; yeh, yeh; that makes a diff'nce. +M-m."</p> + +<p>"Wull, reckon' ah'll haf t' git in muh breeches and +crawl ou' and git dat stuff t' make it wid. M-m. Old +Mis' 'roun' the conah 'll be glad t' git dis twenty cents +dis mawnin'. M-m. Wull, kid, be back t'rectly."</p> + +<p>He was, sooner than expected. He didn't get outside. +He peeped out. What met his gaze would send any +southern rheumatic Negro back.</p> + +<p>It was snow.</p> + +<p>"Jesus Chr-i-s-t!" he exclaimed, returning hastily from +the hallway. "Hell has sho turned on dis' mawnin out +dare. K-whew! 'f the's anything in this world I hates, +it's snow."</p> + +<p>Sidney stopped reading long enough for a good laugh, +as Thurman skinned off his trousers and clambered back +into bed.</p> + +<p>"Aw, shucks, Thur, this is a morning for toddies."</p> + +<p>"A mawnin' fo' Hell, yes, hu! hu! Wow!"</p> + +<p>After a spell, he peeped from beneath the coverlets. +"Say! since ah come t' think uv't, we c'n have them +toddies wid-out get'n froze out in doin' it."</p> + +<p>"How's that?" asked the other.</p> + +<p>"I'll get dat liquah from John."</p> + +<p>"And who is John?"</p> + +<p>"John? Wull, did'n' you git 'quainted wi'im when I +brung you heah? John's the man we room with. He +sells liquah."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Say Spoon," said Sidney one day, "I'm going to cut +the tiger kitin' out."</p> + +<p>"Aw, gwan, kid, what you talkin' 'bout?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to church in the mornings, and in the +evenings, I hope to find a place that will be more in +keeping with respectable people," announced Sidney.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come on, let's go up here to old lady Macks, and +get some of that 'Sparrow Gin,'" Spoon suggested, +temptingly.</p> + +<p>"To prove that I am not likely to keep my resolution."</p> + +<p>"You've none to keep as I can particular see. I have +never seen you drink anything stronger than beer when +you've been with me. You seem to go along with me, +to see me and the others act a fool. Sometimes you +impress me as being a strange person.... I wonder. +Now I wonder...."</p> + +<p>"Where is a church that would be likely to appeal +to you and myself?"</p> + +<p>"Up on Herald Street is one that I think will appeal +to <i>you</i>. You're serious. Me—I'm quite unfit for any; +but I'll take you up there, and sit through one of Hodder's +sermons if you care to go. My people are members of +that church, and it is a progressive one."</p> + +<p>"We will attend services there—Sunday morning."</p> + +<p>Wyeth became a regular visitor.</p> + +<p>The following Sunday, the pastor appraised the congregation +of the fact, that on the following Sunday, they +would have with them the Reverend W. Jacobs, the +energetic young man who was doing such great work +for the training of wayward children. And this takes +our story into a matter of grave human interest.</p> + +<p>Coincident with better educational facilities, and the +more careful training of the children, time had brought +a change that was slowly but surely being felt by these +black people in the south. It has already been stated, +that the Baptist church required little literary training in +order to preach; but, in this church, it is quite different, +and no man would be tolerated as a minister, who had +not a great amount of theological, as well as literary +training.</p> + +<p>Henry Hugh Hodder was a man, not only prepared in +the lines of theology and literature, but was fully supplied +with practical knowledge as well. He had, at the time +Sidney Wyeth became acquainted with him, gathered to +his church, a majority of Attalia's best black people. +His popularity was, moreover, on the increase, and his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +church was filled regularly with a class of people who +listened, studied and applied to their welfare, what he +said each Sunday in the pulpit.</p> + +<p>His church stood on a corner to the edge of the black +belt, and near a fashionable white neighborhood. And it +had, at the time it was constructed, caused considerable +agitation. When Sidney and Spoon came to the door, +prayer was being offered, and when it was over, they +entered, taking seats near the door.</p> + +<p>It was a nicely ventilated church, with large colored +windows, arranged to allow air to pass in without coming +directly upon the congregation. At the front, a small +rostrum rose to the level of the rear, and contained, in +addition to the altar, only four chairs. Sidney was told +afterwards, that, due to a practice always followed in +other churches, particularly the Baptist, of allowing +journeymen preachers to put themselves before the congregation +uninvited, Hodder had removed the chairs in +order to discourage such practice.</p> + +<p>Apparently he had succeeded, for, on the Sundays that +followed, Sidney saw only those who were invited, facing +the congregation.</p> + +<p>Directly over the rostrum hung a small balcony, which +contained the choir and a pipe organ. Following a song, +the pastor came forward. He was a tall man, with width +in proportion, perhaps two hundred and twenty pounds. +Not unlike the average Negro of today, he was brown-skinned. +His hair, a curly mass of blackness, was brushed +back from a high forehead. His voice, as he opened the +sermon, was deep and resonant. And for his text that +day, he took "Does It Pay!"</p> + +<p>Not since Sidney Wyeth had attended church and heard +sermons, had he been so stirred by a discourse! Back +into the ancient times; to the history of Judea and Caesar, +he took the listener, and then subtly applied it to the life +of today. Never had he heard one whose eloquence +could so blend with everyday issues, and cause them to +react as moral uplift. For he knew the black Oman's +need. Pen cannot describe its effect upon Sidney Wyeth. +It seemed, as the words of the pastor came to him, re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span>vealing +a thousand moral truths, which he had felt, but +could not express, that he had come from afar for a great +thing, that sermon. It lifted him out of the chaos of the +present, and brought him to appreciate what life, and the +duty of existence really meant.</p> + +<p>Having, in a sense, drifted away from the pious training +he had received as a youth, Sidney Wyeth was suddenly +jerked back to the past, and enjoyed the experience. On +account of his progressive ideas, he had been accused, by +some of his people, since his return to live among them, +of being an unbeliever. He was often told that he was +not a Christian; they meant, of course, that he was not +a member of a church, which, to most colored people, is +equivalent to disbelief. Sidney Wyeth saw the life, the +instance of Christ as a moral lesson.</p> + +<p>When the sermon closed, Wyeth had one desire, and +fulfilled it, and that was to shake Henry Hugh Hodder's +hand; moreover, to tell him, in the only way he knew +how, what the sermon had been to him.</p> + +<p>He did so, and was received very simply.</p> + +<p>As he approached the rostrum, at the foot of which +stood the pastor, shaking hands with many others who +had come forward in the meantime, he was like one +walking on air. He recalled the many sermons preached +to satisfy the emotion of an ignorant mass, and which, +in hundreds of instances, went wide of the mark, causing +a large portion of the congregation to rise in their seats, +and give utterance to emotional discordance, the same +being often forgotten by the morrow.</p> + +<p>Hodder was not only as he was just described, but he +proved to Sidney Wyeth to be a practical, informed, and +observing man as well. When he had received the card, +he inquired of the country from whence Sidney came, +and related briefly the notices he had followed, regarding +its opening a few years previous.</p> + +<p>At that moment, a large man, almost white—that is, he +was white, although a colored man—was introduced to +him as Mr. Herman. He proved to be the proprietor of +the large barber shop on Plum Street, which had caught +Sidney's attention the day he came. After Mr. Herman's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +introduction, he met many others prominent in Negro +circles, including the president and cashier of the local +Negro bank. And thus it came that Sidney Wyeth met +these, the new Negro, and the leaders of a new dispensation.</p> + +<p>Two hours after the services had closed, he passed a +big church on Audubon Avenue; a church of the "old +style religion" and, which most Negroes still like. It was +then after two o'clock. Morning service was still in +order—no, the sermon had closed, but collection hadn't. +Out of curiosity, he entered. The pastor had, during this +period, concentrated his arts on the collection table. He +was just relating the instance of people who put their +dollar over one eye, so closely, that it was liable to freeze +to the eye and bring about utter blindness. "So now," +he roared, brandishing his arms in a rally call, "<i>We jes' +need a few dollahs mo' to make the collection fo'ty-fo'. I'll +put in a quata', who'll do the rest</i>," whereupon the choir +gave forth a mighty tune, that filled the church with a +strain which made some feel like dancing.</p> + +<p>The following Tuesday, an editorial appeared in one of +the leading dailies, concerning the sermon and the instance +of Henry Hugh Hodder. It dwelt at some length on +his work for the evolution of his people, and concluded +by praying that (among the black population) great +would be the day when such men and such sermons were +an established order.</p> + +<p>Sidney, now in an office to himself, read it to a man +next door. Whereupon the other said:</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is nothing unusual. They often speak of +him and his work in the editorial columns. Which might +account for his having such a fine church." ...</p> + +<p>Wyeth was silent, apparently at a loss what to say. +The silence had reached a point which was becoming +strained, when another, who happened to be in the office, +relieved it by spitting out sneeringly:</p> + +<p>"White fo'kes'll give any nigga plenty money, when +he says what they want him too." He was a deacon in +the big church referred to. This was not investigated.</p> + +<p>Wyeth called him a liar then and there.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_NINE" id="CHAPTER_NINE"></a>CHAPTER NINE</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Sweet Genevieve</i>"</p> + + +<p>"Wilson, dear," said Constance Jacobs to her brother, +the pastor, on his return from Attalia, Effingham, and +other places where he was required to go in the interest +of his work. Coming up to him in her usual manner, she +kissed him fondly, for she was not only fond of this, her +only brother, but she was proud of him. Well she could +be, for Wilson Jacobs was a hard, conscientious worker +in the moral uplift of his people. "I have a surprise in +store for you," she said, "and if you are comfortable I +will tell you."</p> + +<p>"Little sister," he said, as he kissed her fondly in +return, and gave her his undivided attention.</p> + +<p>"I hardly know how to tell you, but I have with me, +someone who came during your absence; the most unusual +to be a usual girl I have ever known." She then +related the instance of Mildred Latham's coming, and +the circumstance, including the book. "I have read the +book that she is selling, and with which she seems to be +very successful, in fact, she is so successful that I am +almost persuaded to take up the work myself. The story +is interesting; but it is not that which has caused me +much thought, it is the girl herself.</p> + +<p>"She is a beautiful girl, intelligent, kind and winning, +although she does not, as I can see, practice or exercise +any arts to be winning. She is single, and does not +appear to have any interest in the opposite sex, nor does +she appear to care for any society. In fact, besides being +nice and kind to all whom she chances to meet, she does +not have any interest beyond the book. She is simply +foolish about it, just as much so as though the author +were her lover, and depended upon her for its success.</p> + +<p>"There is something peculiar, that is, oh, Wilson, there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +is something, just something that I cannot understand +about her, that's all." She gave up trying to express +herself for a time, and then he spoke:</p> + +<p>"In love, no doubt, and has had trouble."</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, then shook her head. "It might be +that; but if it is, it is an extraordinary love affair; but +I am confident it is deeper than that. I catch her at +times looking into space as though her mind were far +away. And at these times, I have taken notice that she +is sad, very sad. My heart goes out to her when I see +her like this, because, for some peculiar reason, I have +fallen in love with her. She found a place to stay, and +was going to move, but I could not think of it. She is +the sweetest companion I ever had.</p> + +<p>"I wish you would become interested in her, dear. I +want you to. Perhaps you can get at the bottom of the +mystery that surrounds her. I cannot, and it worries +me, because I want to help her, and it hurts me when +I feel that I cannot. She has become very much interested +in your work, and has been helping me in the +correspondence relative to the same."</p> + +<p>"When can I meet this strange person you speak of, +Constance? I am curious, from what you have said. +I gather already that she may be able to help us in some +way in our work."</p> + +<p>"She went down the street for a walk, but will return +shortly, since she never goes far." At that moment, +steps sounded on the porch, and a moment later, Mildred +entered quietly, and was on the way to her room, when +Constance met her with: "Oh, Miss Latham. Please +meet my brother who came since you went out. Miss +Latham, my brother, Wilson Jacobs."</p> + +<p>"My sister has just been speaking of you, Miss +Latham," said he, after the exchange had been made.</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" cried Mildred, smiling pleasantly upon +Constance. "Your sister does me too much honor."</p> + +<p>"Not a bit. I am glad to know you, and shall be +pleased to become better acquainted as time goes on. +I am told that you are selling a good book. I have +observed advertisements of the same some time ago, and +will be delighted to read it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mildred smiled pleasantly, hesitated, and then said: +"Every one I sell to report that they love the book. I +do myself. I think it is such a frank and unbiased story, +and told so simply, that anyone can understand it; yet +with a touching human interest that is, in a measure, +vital to us all. Even persons more highly gifted can +learn something from it, and be entertained as well."</p> + +<p>"She has sold over a hundred copies in three weeks, +which I think is extraordinary, don't you?" said Constance +at this point, whereupon Mildred looked slightly +embarrassed. She always did when anyone spoke in +praise of her.</p> + +<p>"Extraordinary, excellent, I should say," her brother +smiled. "Where does she find such good customers?"</p> + +<p>"I work among the women in domestic service," +Mildred explained. Wilson looked surprised.</p> + +<p>"Indeed! And do you find many readers among them? +You have not been to many of the teachers?"</p> + +<p>"I have, yes; but they do not seem to take much +interest in work by Negroes, so far as I have been able +to gather. I could not say for sure, of course not; but +I <i>do</i> find the women in service, in great numbers, to be +fond of reading and full of race pride. Of course, there +are multitudes of ignorant ones who are not capable of +appreciating literature and its value as moral uplift, but, +as a whole, I am highly successful."</p> + +<p>Wilson Jacobs was greatly moved by his first conversation +with Mildred, and found himself thinking about her +more than once in the days that followed. His sister +became so deeply interested in her, that after a week had +passed, she had taken up the work also.</p> + +<p>"Do you ever play, Miss Latham?" inquired Constance +a few days afterward, and late one afternoon, when they +had returned from their work.</p> + +<p>"A little," Mildred admitted. "But it has been so +long since I have touched a key, that I am sure I should +be very awkward if I attempted it. I think you play +nicely."</p> + +<p>The other laughed. "I only play when I am quite +sure no one is likely to hear me. There is one piece I can<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +play, and of which I am very fond. I heard you humming +it the other day. As soon as the parlor is 'comfy,' +I shall ask you to condescend to listen to me play it."</p> + +<p>"What piece is that? Please tell me," Mildred inquired.</p> + +<p>"Sweet Genevieve."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes...."</p> + +<p>"Why, what is the matter, dearest?" cried Constance, +hurrying toward her.</p> + +<p>"Nothing, nothing!" said the other, hastily mopping +her nose and eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm relieved, but I thought I heard you sob, +but of course you didn't. Of course not. Really, I begin +to feel that if I don't get married soon, I'll become a +nervous, cranky old maid."</p> + +<p>"Please don't say such things about yourself," entreated +Mildred. "You were not mistaken. I did—ah—I +sobbed—I mean I coughed. I had something in my +throat," she concluded nervously.</p> + +<p>"I'm relieved," smiled the other, and, going to the +piano, she struck the keys, and sang in a high contralto +voice:</p> + +<div class="poem small"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4q">"O, Genevieve, I'd give the world<br /></span> +<span class="i5">To live again the lovely past!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The rose of youth was dew-impearled;<br /></span> +<span class="i5">But now it withers in the blast.<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I see thy face in every dream,<br /></span> +<span class="i5">My waking thoughts are full of thee;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Thy glance is in the starry beam<br /></span> +<span class="i5">That falls along the summer sea."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It was in the small hours of the morning when Mildred +Latham's eyes closed in sleep. All the night through, +the strains of <i>Sweet Genevieve</i> and what it recalled, tortured +her memory, until it was from sheer fatigue that +she did at last fall asleep.</p> + +<p>She hoped Constance would play <i>Sweet Genevieve</i> no +more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TEN" id="CHAPTER_TEN"></a>CHAPTER TEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Do Something and You'll Find Out</i>"</p> + + +<p>In Attalia, there is a street which includes all that goes +with Ethiopian. It is called Dalton street, and along its +narrow way—for it is narrow, and one of the oldest +streets in the city—occurs much that is deplorable.</p> + +<p>On this selfsame street, an incident took place, in +which Sidney Wyeth happened to figure as more than +the casual observer.</p> + +<p>It was in late afternoon of a cold wet day. He had +been delivering books, and had a considerable amount +of the proceeds of the delivery in his pockets, when, +while on the way to the office, he chanced to be passing +down this street. He looked up, and found himself +before a large, odd appearing structure. A uniformed +man stood at the front, and, in passing, Wyeth paused a +moment, took in the proportions of the building with a +critical gaze, and inquired of the man what it was.</p> + +<p>The other looked at him with an expression which +seemed to say: "You ought to know!" But grinning, +he replied:</p> + +<p>"Do something and you'll damn quick find out! It's +the police station."</p> + +<p>"M-m-m-m! You wouldn't be likely to find out if +you didn't, I suppose," he laughed, as he continued on +his way.</p> + +<p>During Sidney Wyeth's bachelor life on the <i>Rosebud</i>, +he had been a victim of the habit of going to town, and +loafing the night through, occasionally. There had, in +the beginning, been a great deal of gambling there, and +to watch this was an absorbing pastime. It served, also, +as he then felt, as a diversion to break the monotony of +his lonesome life.</p> + +<p>Now there were places—if not gambling dens—in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +Attalia also, where one could loaf at night. When his +correspondence was completed that evening, he felt a +"Call of the Wild" in his blood, and went forth on a +pilgrimage of this kind. In company with a chauffeur, +he left for his room about one thirty A.M. the following +morning. They had not, however, gone far before the +clouds had gathered. They didn't see the clouds—at first—but +the clouds saw them. They happened to be a pair +of meddlesome bull-cops. It has been stated that the +hour was about one thirty, but the cops said two. Moreover, +they wished to know what business occasioned two +young men to be out at such an hour.</p> + +<p>Sidney felt slightly insulted, and stepped aside to let +them by, thereby wishing to avoid any argument. The +cops stepped aside also, but to see that they did not get +too far out of the way. Said one—and he was the +burliest—"Well, boys, where have you been?" "Where +have we been?" said Wyeth, to himself. "Now wouldn't +that frost you!" What business of these men was it? +They had positively not been acting suspicious, nor were +they seen fighting, and neither were they drunk. So, +then, what right had two burley cops to get in the way, +and ask such impertinent questions. Sidney felt like +making an indignant reply, he felt like fighting; then he +did some quick thinking, and decided to be patient, +answering the questions in an offhand way, and so be +on his way, for he felt sleepy. And then, again, he +observed that they wore great big sticks, with which +they toyed idly, as they waited for reply.</p> + +<p>"Aw, knocking around." It was Wyeth who made +this reply.</p> + +<p>"Aw, knockin' 'roun'," said the big cop, who had +now grown ugly in the sight of Wyeth, and he repeated +this mockingly. And now spoke the chauffeur, who had +grown up in those parts. He was diplomatic. Said he:</p> + +<p>"I'm jes' gettin' off frum we'k, cap'n," and despite +his look of truth and sincerity, he trembled perceptibly.</p> + +<p>Sidney observed him with a touch of disgust.</p> + +<p>"Is that so-o?" said the cop, more sneeringly now +than ever. Sidney had enough, and started to go by,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +but the blue-coat blocked his way roughly, and cried out, +with club grasped: "Where yu' been, nigger?"</p> + +<p>Wyeth was shocked beyond speech. Evidently, he +had not as yet come to appreciate that he was otherwise +than on the <i>Rosebud</i>. "Where you been, nigger?" +came the terrible voice once more.</p> + +<p>Wyeth woke up. Moreover, he became obviously +frightened. He replied—and lo! He was trembling also, +as he cried:</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Mr. Policeman!" He was now +wild-eyed. "I'm not breaking the law; I have done +nothing; I am on the way to my room and to bed. Why +do you hold me up this way. I don't think I am obliged +to answer such questions as you ask; but I have been +calling, I cannot see that it matters where, since—"</p> + +<p>"Aw don't talk to the man lak dat," whimpered the +chauffeur.</p> + +<p>"I'll knock your damned head off, nigger! What'n +Hell's got int' you to talk to a white man like that!" +He turned his face to the other who had not, up to then, +said anything, and said: "Let's arrest them!" The +other acquiesced. "Come on!" he roared, grabbing the +chauffeur by the belt of his trousers, and whirling him +about. The other caught Sidney likewise, but was more +civil in the act.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord, Mister," said he to his cop, "why are +you arresting us? We have done nothing!"</p> + +<p>"Got orders to pick up everybody after one o'clock +who looks <i>suspicious</i>, and cannot give good accounts of +themselves," he replied soberly.</p> + +<p>"I wish I had known it," Wyeth sighed wearily; +"but I'm at least glad that I didn't have him lead me," +he said, pointing to the cop who had the chauffeur.</p> + +<p>"You made him mad," grinned the patrolman. "You +must not live here?"</p> + +<p>"No, Lord, and I wish at this moment I had never +come."</p> + +<p>"When a white man speaks to you down here, always +answer him 'sir!'" he advised.</p> + +<p>"I most assuredly will, if I meet any more like him,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +said Sidney meekly. After a moment of silence as they +stumbled along, he said thoughtfully: "I hate this. I've +never been arrested before in my life. Will they lock +us up?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure!" the other laughed.</p> + +<p>"M-m-m-m—m!"</p> + +<p>"Jes' lemme go this time, Mister," whined the chauffeur +ahead, "'n' I won' neve' be out late no mo'."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, son," said the bull-cop a little kindly, +"but it's impossible. I o'n' think you are bad 'tall, but +that other nigger's crooked, 'n' I know he is," he said, +pointing back at Wyeth. He was overheard, and despite +the precarious condition Wyeth realized he was in, he +smiled.</p> + +<p>"He's sho got a bad 'pinion a-you, son," laughed +Wyeth's cop.</p> + +<p>"I'll go t' bed eve' night at nine 'clock—eight 'f you +say so," begged the chauffeur, as they neared the patrol +box.</p> + +<p>While they were waiting for the "wagon," the copper +with the chauffeur in charge turned that worthy over to +the other cop, and ran across the street to intercept +another Negro. That one happened to be a waiter who +worked at night, and was, accordingly, allowed to go his +way; but he had been off work since ten o'clock. Wyeth +and the chauffeur had left him at the palm garden when +they departed, but that was no argument now. The +other went his way, whistling cheerfully, while they stood +prisoners of the law.</p> + +<p>It was a dreadful experience for Sidney Wyeth.</p> + +<p>A mighty but familiar jingling of bells proclaimed that +the "wagon" was on the way, and in an incredibly short +time they were pushed inside. As the door closed, with +a bigger cop than the others between the culprits (?) and +the door, these words came to Wyeth's ears: "Idling +and Loitering!"</p> + +<p>"Youse the cause a-this," accused the chauffeur +angrily.</p> + +<p>Wyeth laughed outright.</p> + +<p>"How c'n you laf 'n' us on the way t' the lock-up!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>Wyeth laughed in earnest now, while the bull smiled +naively.</p> + +<p>"I wish I'd a-neve' seen you," said the other wearily.</p> + +<p>"It's vain to make such wishes now;" and then something +occurred to him. He had been to the bank, but +had, fortunately, not deposited all he had. "Say, Governor," +he cried, "if a man should put up money when he +is taken before the clerk, or whoever it is that receives +us, would they allow him to return without locking him +up?" His inquiry was eager. The other replied:</p> + +<p>"Most assuredly."</p> + +<p>"Good! How much will I have to put up to keep from +being locked up?"</p> + +<p>"About ten dollars and seventy-five cents."</p> + +<p>Wyeth did some counting. "I have ten fifty. Will +they let me out on that?"</p> + +<p>"I think so."</p> + +<p>"What you goin' do 'bout me?" put in the chauffeur.</p> + +<p>"Do about you!" said Wyeth. "What you going to +do about yourself? I'm not your guardian."</p> + +<p>"But I ain' got bu' fifty cents," he wailed despairingly.</p> + +<p>"Then methinks you will sleep on Dalton street tonight."</p> + +<p>They had arrived at the station by this time. Wyeth +recalled a few hours before with a feeling of awe, as he +recognized the place and the words the man had used.</p> + +<p>"What's your name?" demanded the clerk of the +chauffeur.</p> + +<p>"Boise Demon."</p> + +<p>"Yours!"</p> + +<p>Wyeth gave it, and as the clerk made a record of it, +he made inquiry regarding a bond.</p> + +<p>"All right. Ten seventy-five."</p> + +<p>"I have but ten fifty."</p> + +<p>"See the sargent."</p> + +<p>"What's the charge?" inquired that orderly, coming +forward.</p> + +<p>"Id'ling and loitering."</p> + +<p>"Let him off for ten."</p> + +<p>"Pay me out, pay me out!" trembled the chauffeur.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Shut up!" commanded Sidney. "Haven't you heard +me say I had but ten fifty?"</p> + +<p>"Then do'n go, do'n go; stay with me!"</p> + +<p>"Like Hell, I will!" exclaimed Wyeth with a laugh. +The officers standing about, laughed also, and said:</p> + +<p>"Don't be 'fraid, honey. You'll have lots a-company."</p> + +<p>Wyeth handed over ten dollars, and a moment later +passed into the street where a soft rain was falling. +"Jesus," he muttered; "I'm sure glad I kept that +money." And then, ere he had got far, he heard a cell +door clang, and thought about Demon. At the same +moment, there came to his ears the music of many +throats singing: "Don't you leave me here!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ELEVEN" id="CHAPTER_ELEVEN"></a>CHAPTER ELEVEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Jedge L'yles' Co't</i>"</p> + + +<p>Wyeth sneaked into the room without waking Thurman +that morning. Nor did he inform him of his good +fortune, when the other arose two hours later to go to +work. He did not sleep any that night, and, since he +had to be to the court at eight-thirty or forfeit his bond, +he arose early, dressed, and in due time, he sat in the large +theatre.</p> + +<p>Perhaps if Sidney Wyeth had suspected what would +come to pass that morning, he would have forfeited the +bond by not putting in his appearance; but when he +put up the collateral the night before, he had observed +a mark of respect in the officers. He was sufficiently +acquainted with the courts from a distance, to realize +that the average Negro brought before that tribunal—with +the possible exception of a boot-legger—seldom +brought any money or had any at home, and invariably +went in great numbers to the stockade. Moreover, the +sargent and the clerk, too, had advised him that he +might not possibly be fined at all. Therefore, when he +left for the court, he had no thought other than that he +would go free, and have his money returned.</p> + +<p>"It will, of course," they had said, "depend upon how +Judge Loyal feels when you appear."</p> + +<p>He had heard something regarding this "feeling" +before. He meditated as he made his way in that direction. +And still he recalled more of what he had heard, +which was to the effect that if "his stomach was upset, +look out!"</p> + +<p>He hoped Judge Loyal didn't suffer with dyspepsia or +indigestion....</p> + +<p>As he neared that place he now remembered so well, +he was overwhelmed with memories. He recalled this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +same court, more than ten years before. It was in a +leading magazine. It was, moreover, he recalled, an +interesting story, too. "Wonder if it will prove so +today," he mused silently....</p> + +<p>And now he was inside the court room. He was early, +and so were many others. He recalled, with another +twitch of the memory, that Judge Loyal had presided +ten years before. He would see him today. "There he +is now," he said to himself, as an old man with white +hair came upon the platform, and took a seat behind the +bench.</p> + +<p>But it was the clerk. Judge Loyal came later, so did +others, many others.</p> + +<p>And now all that he had read in that article many +years before, suddenly came back to him clearly. It +overwhelmed him. The article concerned that court—and +Negroes—Negroes—Negroes—a court of Negroes. +And now he was a part of them. Although on the outside, +he felt guilty. He was supposed to answer when +his name was called.</p> + +<p>The court room was filling rapidly. They were herded +behind huge doors, to the left of the room. Black men +and a few whites. A mass of criminal humanity. He +shuddered. He wished now to be over and out of it as +soon as possible. And then he experienced a cold fear. +It became stronger. It developed until it became a +chilly premonition that Judge Loyal (Jedge L'yles, as these +Negroes called him) would be feeling badly that day. +This feeling persisted until it became a reality.</p> + +<p>It was now eight-forty. In ten minutes court would +begin. But still others came, and came, and came. +Women and men, boys and girls—even children. And +eighty per cent of them were Negroes, his people. Would +they never quit coming? What manner of business did +these people conduct that brought so many into court? +And at last came the judge. He was, in all appearance, a +young man. Evidently he was not, because Sidney had +been told that he had been on that bench for twenty-five +years.</p> + +<p>Court was then opened. Inside a fencing, many white<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +people sat in chairs. Who they were, or what part of the +proceeding they represented, he could not tell. Prisoners +were then being arraigned. From somewhere, he did not +see, but it was not from the detention room where the +"<i>great</i>" herd was, a young Negro of striking appearance +was led forward. He was tall and slender, and what +caught the attention of Sidney Wyeth was, that there +was nothing criminal in his appearance. He was about +twenty-five years of age, and wore shackles about his +ankles, as well as upon his wrists. He made a pathetic +picture. Sidney listened carefully, as he stood before the +judge, while talking in an undertone. He could not +hear what was said, but, presently, the prisoner was led +outside and away. He never learned what charge was +made against this young man, although he would have +liked to know.</p> + +<p>On a table that stood to one side of the bench, behind +which the judge and clerk sat, were several cases of +liquor.</p> + +<p>Evidence against some poor devil was strong, thought +Wyeth.</p> + +<p>The gavel fell.</p> + +<p>The first prisoner brought forward and placed before +the judge, was a Negro of medium size and height, and +about middle age. He did not possess the look of a +criminal either. In fact, not all of these people, or any +great part of them, appeared to be criminal, if Sidney +Wyeth had observed criminology correctly. Yet there +was a charge, himself for instance. This one was charged +with having been drunk and making a big noise.</p> + +<p>He admitted the charge.</p> + +<p>"Where did you get it," demanded Judge Loyal.</p> + +<p>"On Dalton street."</p> + +<p>"Who from?"</p> + +<p>"A nigga."</p> + +<p>"Who was he?"</p> + +<p>"A nigga."</p> + +<p>"I don't mean that. What was his name?"</p> + +<p>"Dunno."</p> + +<p>"You don't know, yet you purchased enough liquor of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +him to get drunk, whoop it up and disturb the peace of +the populace."</p> + +<p>"Yassar."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see him before?"</p> + +<p>"Nawsar."</p> + +<p>"Was it corn whiskey or rye?"</p> + +<p>"Niedda."</p> + +<p>"Well—what was it?"</p> + +<p>"Gin."</p> + +<p>"Oh! Gin...."</p> + +<p>"Sparrow Gin."</p> + +<p>"Ten dollars and cost. Next!"</p> + +<p>There was some delay before the next ones were brought +forward. When they came, there was some anxiety. +They were white men from one of the suburbs. As to +how they happened to be in this court was a matter for +conjecture; but the charge was fighting.</p> + +<p>A witness mounted the stand by request.</p> + +<p>"Your name is?—"</p> + +<p>"Bill Sykes."</p> + +<p>"William Sykes. Very well, William Sykes, what do +you know about this affair? Tell it to the court."</p> + +<p>"Yer' 'onah, Judge," began Sykes, drawing his jeans +coat sleeve across his mouth. "Yistidy I left home 'bout +four a-clock 'n' come dawn to Abe Thomas' store, as I +usually do for some t'baccer."</p> + +<p>"State what you know about this disturbance," cut in +the recorder's voice. "The court has nothing to do +about your tobacco."</p> + +<p>"Well, 's I started to say. I come down after some +t'baccer.——"</p> + +<p>"Witness ordered removed from the stand. Put up +the next," commanded the judge.</p> + +<p>Bill Sykes was summarily removed, as he muttered: +"This is shore an all fired place to tell somethin'."</p> + +<p>"Your name is?"</p> + +<p>"Silas Harris."</p> + +<p>"Silas Harris, state briefly to the court what you +know about this case."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, sir, Judge, yer 'onah. It was sho'tly afta' fo' +er-clock when I came down to Abe Thomas' store, 's I +always do to get a chaw t'baccer."</p> + +<p>The judge looked disgusted. Silas resumed.</p> + +<p>"'N' I wa'nt no morn' inside before Chris Tuttle says, +says he t' me, 'ah Si', says he t' me, ah gimme a chaw +t'baccer. Then I says to him, says I t' him, 'ah Chris,' +says I t' him, 'I ain' got no t'baccer, 'n' I jes' come down +t' see 'f I couldn't get a chaw of'n you!' says I t' him; +'but,' says I, says I t' him. 'I ain' got no t'baccer, Chris,' +says I t' him; 'but I God, I got some a 's good-a ole +rosin as yer ever broke a tooth on.'"</p> + +<p>"Case Nolle-prossed."</p> + +<p>Several Negroes were brought before the bar for +various misdemeanors, were fined and few dismissed, +while a great many were bound over. The next case to +arouse any special attention, pertained to two white +girls who were brought forward with drooped heads, and +made a picture that attracted the attention of the crowd. +The recorder frowned, as he observed then questioningly.</p> + +<p>"What's the charge?" he inquired of the officer, who +presented himself as prosecutor.</p> + +<p>"Soliciting."</p> + +<p>"All right, prefer it."</p> + +<p>"Your honor, Judge. I found these young women +hanging around Dewitt and Carlton streets this morning +about one o'clock, and advised them to 'beat' it. They +disappeared for a spell, but at a quarter past two they +were out again, and I heard them and saw them accost +several men who happened to be coming from work. +Presently a couple halted, and a few minutes later the +four disappeared within a rooming house. I had been +watching this house, and was positive it was crooked. +I followed them a little later, and when I was inside, I +looked about for a clerk and register that I did not find. +Then I overheard talking in low tones in a couple of the +rooms. When I knocked on the door, all was quiet and +the doors were not opened. I then demanded the doors +be opened in the name of the law. A scrambling followed, +I heard windows go up, and a little later men hit the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +ground below. When I entered the rooms I found these +young women alone, and put them under arrest."</p> + +<p>The court room was very silent. All eyes were upon +the prisoners. The fact that the girls were both beautiful +seemed to provoke the judge, and he was very cold of +demeanor.</p> + +<p>"What excuse have you to offer for such acts of indiscretion?" +he inquired presently, and eyed them +severely.</p> + +<p>They both burst out crying and clung to each other, +which made a very pathetic picture. "We wasn't doing +anything, Mr. Judge. Not anything. We lived there +and the men were our husbands," said one, while the other +cried woefully. The recorder eyed them critically, before +speaking in a tone of extreme severity:</p> + +<p>"Why, then, did they jump out the windows and run +away.... Don't you think that was very cowardly for +<i>husbands</i>?"</p> + +<p>"O-oh," they cried now like two poor souls about to +enter purgatory. They almost made others cry, too. +But the judge was unbending. He looked forbidding, and +as cold as steel as he said:</p> + +<p>"Young women like you two should exercise more +discretion. If you <i>must</i> conduct yourselves to the disgrace +of the community in such manner, you should keep +off the streets with your <i>men</i> at such ungodly hours. +I am, therefore, going to impose a fine of $10 and costs +upon each of you for delinquency. Next!"</p> + +<p>"Boise Demon and Sidney Wyeth!" called the clerk +with his eyes on the docket.</p> + +<p>The pair now stood facing the court.</p> + +<p>"Your Honor," began the officer, who had Wyeth in +charge the night before, preferring the charge, "we found +these fellows at two o'clock this morning, going in the +direction of Warren street. And since, as you know, we +have orders to intercept all people whose appearance is +suspicious, and since they failed to give an account of +themselves that was satisfactory, we considered it expedient +to place them under arrest."</p> + +<p>The recorder nodded his acquiescence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Your name?" he inquired of the chauffeur.</p> + +<p>"Boise Demon."</p> + +<p>"And yours?" of Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"What's your occupation, Demon?"</p> + +<p>"I'm a chauffeur 'n' wo'ks fo' Mr. Baron Ciders. +You know him. 'Es mah boss. 'Es got a office in the—"</p> + +<p>"Why weren't you at home in bed ten hours before +you were charged with being on the street?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>Demon's jaw fell. Sidney looked discouraged.</p> + +<p>It was a self-evident fact now that Judge Loyal's +stomach was out of order....</p> + +<p>Demon's excuse was a variation that failed to impress +the judge as being the truth. Wyeth languidly resigned +himself to the inevitable.</p> + +<p>"What is your occupation, Wyeth?" he now turned +his gaze upon Sidney.</p> + +<p>He was told.</p> + +<p>"What's your excuse for being upon the streets at two +A.M.?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing!" calmly.</p> + +<p>The judge regarded him in silence, while the pair +waited for the sentence. Still the judge paused. As he +did so, Wyeth heard him belch slightly, as if decided. +A moment later came the words:</p> + +<p>"Fine you fellows $5 and costs. You must keep off +the street loafing about all night. Next!"</p> + +<p>They were turned about automatically, and then Wyeth +found himself looking down on a low, deformed creature. +He had been told about him also, and why he was deformed.</p> + +<p>It had come about during a terrific race riot of a few +years before, and the incident will ever live in the history +of Attalia. It was then this creature became crippled. +He was, at the time, one of the strongest and most +capable officers on the force. But, upon being sent to +make an arrest, he happened onto a "bad" Negro, run +amuck. He was, to say the least, however, far more +fortunate than a dozen others, for they had been sent to +their happy hunting ground before the riot was quelled. +Since then, he had acted as a sort of bailiff.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>Peeping up at Wyeth he said: "You have up collateral, +do you not?"</p> + +<p>"Pay me out, pay me out!" cried Demon, at this +point.</p> + +<p>Wyeth nodded.</p> + +<p>"Then you step aside, and follow the officer downstairs +to the clerk's office," he instructed.</p> + +<p>"Pay me out, pay me out!" from Demon again.</p> + +<p>Wyeth frowned and pinched him good. "I wish to +confer in regard to this fellow," said he to hunchy, as +they were being waited for.</p> + +<p>In the detention room, Demon secured a loan of fifty +cents from another miscreant, and a moment later, they +stood before the clerk.</p> + +<p>When the fines had been paid, the officer said: "Now +Demon, you can go, but I am ordered to hold Wyeth as +a suspicious character."</p> + +<p>"Well I'll be damned!" was all Wyeth said.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Take me at once before him," he cried, when they +were again in the court room, at the same time flashing +his check book which he had placed in his pocket for +precautionary measures. Demon had followed them +gratefully back up the stairs, and now stood about +muttering in a low tone: "Ain' that Hell, <i>ain' that +Hell</i>!" Wyeth motioned him aside, resolutely.</p> + +<p>Once more he stood before his Honor. Upon recognizing +him, the recorder looked at the officer with a +question. His face had cleared of the frown it wore some +time before, and Wyeth concluded his stomach was better.</p> + +<p>The officer preferred the charge, whereupon he looked +at Wyeth keenly. Wyeth made a motion. It was +granted.</p> + +<p>"I dislike, very much, your Honor, to be kept in this +court room so unceremoniously. I am no criminal, and +my time is worth something. Now if I may be permitted +to put up more money, I have just paid a fine for being +out late for myself, as well as for another, and go my +way until this thing is done with, I'll appreciate it."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Twenty-five dollars."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>Wyeth paid it, and never returned to take it down.</p> + +<p>When he got back to his room after it was all over, +thirty-six dollars to the bad, he opened the book of +resolutions and recorded therein:</p> + +<p>"Resolved! That to give heed to the 'Call of the +Wild' in Attalia, is a very expensive diversion, albeit a +lesson; therefore, henceforth, twelve o'clock will find +me in the land of nod."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWELVE" id="CHAPTER_TWELVE"></a>CHAPTER TWELVE</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>A Jew</i>; <i>a Gentile</i>; <i>a Murder</i>—<i>and Some More</i></p> + + +<p>"Look here, kid, they tell me they had you," jollied +Spoon, when he saw Wyeth that evening at Hatfield's +ice cream parlor.</p> + +<p>"You're breaking into print," laughed "Bubber" Hatfield, +unfolding a green sheet, <i>The Searchlight</i>, a sensational +four-page afternoon affair, which made a specialty +of court news, and which most colored people read. +They are fond of such news.</p> + +<p>Frowning, while all those standing about laughed, he +took the sheet and read:</p> + +<p class="center">NEGRO FROM THE NORTH WAS SURPRISED</p> + +<p>In a few colored paragraphs, it described his appearance +before the recorder. And in conclusion, it had these +trite words, purported to have been said by him: "Dey +don' have dem kind of laws up norf."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The following Saturday, he dropped into Tompkins' +and was introduced to a man who impressed him considerably. +At the first glance, he could see he was not a +southerner. Before he made his acquaintance, he overheard +him discussing books with Tompkins, and when +he heard him speaking of the latest works of fiction, he +opened his ears. To hear a Negro in Attalia discussing +novels, the late ones, was something new to him; in +fact, he had heard the most of those he met discuss but +one, a salacious one from the pen of a noted English +author and playwright, and which cannot be had at the +libraries, but is, nevertheless, a masterpiece.</p> + +<p>He grasped his hand cordially, and they at once +entered into conversation. His name was Edwards. +"This gentleman," explained Tompkins, "is the author<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +of the book you and your friend were looking at this +afternoon." Edwards' eyebrows went up with considerable +pleasure, as he cried in a voice that was, to say +the least, cordial:</p> + +<p>"Indeed! I am honored to meet a real author." Sidney, +however, was much embarrassed. He disliked to be +pointed out as an author among his people. The most of +those he met had impressed him with the feeling that an +author must be something extraordinary, and were usually +disappointed to find them only human beings like themselves. +Edwards, however, was not only an individual +of good breeding, but one with perspective, and quite +capable of appreciating an effort, regardless of what the +attainment might be.</p> + +<p>Sidney had met few of his race, but who seemed to feel +that to write was to be graduated from a school, with a +name that was a fetish, and to be likewise a professor in +some college. In order to get material and color for a +work, they had not yet come to realize that it was best, +and much more original as well, to come in contact with +the people and observe their manner of living.</p> + +<p>This may account, in a large degree, for the fact that +so many whom he met were impractical, even badly +informed.</p> + +<p>Edwards and he became agreeable acquaintances at +once. "Come take dinner with me this evening," Edwards +invited, grasping Wyeth's arm, and leading him into the +restaurant next door, where he had already ordered +dinner. And such a meal! Wyeth had not realized that +it was in the range of possibilities for the little place to +prepare such a one. Moreover, to say that Edwards knew +how to order would be putting it mildly. He spared no +cost obviously, since the meal came to $3.75. Wyeth felt +guilty, when he recalled that he ate three times a day at +the same place, the kind termed "half meals," and which +came to fifteen cents per.</p> + +<p>Before they had sat long, Edwards' friend came to the +table. And of all the Negroes Sidney had met, this one +was the most extraordinary. The son of a Japanese +mother and a Negro father, he had been educated abroad.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +He spent his youth in Asia, lived a portion of his life in +Japan, the remainder in America and was a Buddhist. +One Negro at least who didn't spell "ligon."</p> + +<p>History and science, from the beginning of time—before +Adam whom he scorned, astronomy, astrology, meteorology, +the zodiac and the constellations, in fact, he +seemed to know everything. Sidney, anxious always to +learn what he did not know, could only sit with mouth +wide open, while the other declared Jesus of Nazareth, +Noah, the flood, Adam and Eve, and all the rest, the +biggest liars the world ever knew.</p> + +<p>When Sidney had occasion to speak of him to religious +Negroes in after-months, they would say: "Shucks! He +couldn't a-convinced me 'gainst mah Jaysus." And he +would then be sorry. Sidney "believed" as much as any +one else of moderate intelligence, and his acquaintance +with the unusual Negro had no effect whatever upon him +as a believer; but he knew that many of those who +professed so much faith in "Jaysus" and cried: "We is +God fearin' fo'kes," were mere "feelers" who had no +thought of God whatever, in the sense he should be +regarded and respected. Indeed, they did not fear him. +They feared but one thing, these black people, and that +was the white man, which belongs to another chapter.</p> + +<p>"I grant all you say to be quite possible, my dear sir," +said he, when the other paused in his serious discourse; +"but, having been raised to the Christian faith, I am, +therefore, a hopeless believer. I do, nevertheless, respect +your point of view and your faith, and am glad indeed +to have met you," which ended it.</p> + +<p>Edwards proved to be a graduate of Yale, and was well +informed in every way, as Sidney suspected.</p> + +<p>He had always found it this way. The great fault he +was finding daily with those of his race, was that they did +not read, did not observe, and were not informed in the +many things they could just as well have known.</p> + +<p>As the days went by, Sidney's friendship with Edwards +developed to the point, where Edwards insisted upon +paying half the rent for the privilege of loafing in the +office whenever he was at leisure. Sidney did not inquire<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +his business, or what he was engaged in; but his curiosity +was aroused nevertheless. His friend always had plenty +of money and spent it not foolishly, but freely. He never +permitted Wyeth to pay for anything, and he never ate +a meal that came to less than two dollars.</p> + +<p>After a few days, another fellow joined him, who, +while surrounded with an air of mystery, did not happen +to possess so much apparent education. His name was +Smyles, and he purported to be from Boston. At the +same time acknowledged Alabama to be his birth place. +He still carried the accent. He was dark of visage, had +long legs, and wore trousers around them, which appeared +never to have been pressed. (Wyeth wondered why some +of the many pressing clubs did not kidnap him alive.) +His head was small and obviously hard, and he wore his +top hair so closely cropped, that no one could quite +describe what kind it was.</p> + +<p>Now Smyles was a sport, likewise a spender, and, +moreover, with money a-plenty to spend. And, as the +days passed and Wyeth became better acquainted with +him, he learned that he was "mashed" on the girls to a +considerable degree. For instance: There was Lucy, +who waited on them at Miss Payne's cafe, who got +"crazy" about him. He did about her, too, for awhile, +at least he pretended to. Then he became interested +likewise in another who had "better hair" than Lucy. +Thereupon Lucy became "mad" with jealousy, and +threatened to do something "awful." She didn't, so we +leave her to her fate, and go on with Smyles who becomes, +for the present, the hero of this story.</p> + +<p>"Smyles is a great fellow," remarked Sidney humorously +to Edwards, one day.</p> + +<p>"Isn't he the limit?" said Edwards, with a touch of +disgust.</p> + +<p>"All the girls are liking him," resumed Sidney, enjoying +the conversation and discussion.</p> + +<p>"Takes with all the kitchen mechanics, and anything +else that wears a skirt." Edwards had dignity, a great +deal of it, Wyeth had come now to know. He was plainly +disgusted. Sidney went on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Has lots of money to spend, which makes it exceedingly +convenient."</p> + +<p>"He's the luckiest coon in town," said Edwards +thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"Shoots craps I think."</p> + +<p>"And wins, evidently."</p> + +<p>That Wyeth might not gather an adverse opinion of +him—or rather, a questionable one, Edwards had informed +him that he was connected with a northern +philanthropic organization. Wyeth assumed that he was +connected with something of the kind, and that he was +actually the recipient of plenty of the dispensation. +Every Monday he would go uptown, and return with a +roll. Most of this would be spent by the next Monday, +which was unusual.</p> + +<p>He didn't gamble, but better light will be thrown on +this later.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>About a year before, there had been committed in +Attalia, a most dastardly murder. A man, a Jew he was, +had killed a little girl, a gentile. This murder had occasioned +more comment in those sections, than had anything +in the way of crime for a decade. We stated that +the Jew had killed the girl; it should have been said +that he was <i>accused</i> of having killed her.</p> + +<p>This was the state of affairs in regard to the murder +at the time of our story. Notwithstanding the fact that +the Jew was accused of the murder, the charge against +him, and the public sentiment in particular, had reached +a very serious stage. It would have been very serious +for any one to be accused of such a crime in those parts, +be she gentile, Jewess, or anyone with a white face.</p> + +<p>The body of this girl had been found in the basement +of a factory, at which she was employed at a very small +wage, foully murdered. It was a mystery at first, as to +who was the murderer. A Negro had been arrested and +charged with the crime. It appeared that he was surely +guilty; but he wasn't—at least so it was decided shortly +afterwards. It was confidentially whispered about town<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +to this day, and may be for all time, that he was a lucky +Negro, too. Because, with the way they treat Negroes +accused of doing much less serious things in a part of +this country, he was fortunate to have been accused in +Attalia, where protection is quite ample now, and not in +some of the smaller places—but we are digressing.</p> + +<p>Evidently he was not felt to be guilty, and, moreover, +since suspicion was quickly diverted to the Jew. +And yet he, the Negro, had been discovered in the back +yard of the factory, washing a bloody shirt. Such incriminating +evidence! For some reason, the people could +not seem to bring themselves to feel that the Negro had +sense enough to kill the girl, had he wished to. He was +put through a severe examination of some length, and +finally confessed to having helped the real murderer +dispose, or try to dispose of the body after it was all over. +It was, of course, duly found and as duly buried. It was, +thereafter, exhumed two or three times, as evidence for +the state. The Jew was discovered acting very peculiarly +a few days after the murder. So they had taken him into +custody to ascertain the cause of these actions. Accusations +followed, and he was in time brought before the +high tribunal on a charge of murder, convicted and +sentenced to be hanged until dead, however long that +might be. The date of execution was set for a day, which +happened to be the same day a year later, than that upon +which he was supposed to have committed the deed.</p> + +<p>Thus our story found it.</p> + +<p>Sentencing a man to be hanged, and hanging him, +however, are two very different things. Yet the court +persisted. It was determined to carry out the decision +of the jury of "twelve good men and true,"<a name="FNanchor_A_2" id="FNanchor_A_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_2" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> this Jew, scion +of Jacob, of Israel, of Solomon, and Job, and others, had +money at his back, plenty of it, as we shall see presently; +and they were spending it lavishly, to save his neck, +which was long. Perhaps that explains what came to +pass later.</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> + +<p>The counsel for the defense hired a detective, <i>A +Great Detective</i>. The greatest detective in all the world. +No one can deny this, since he said so himself, at least +this is how he was quoted by a paper, which, for the +purpose of this story, we shall call the "Big Noise." +It was a "noise," too. But, to get back to the detective, +<i>The Great Detective</i>.</p> + +<p>The leading papers corroborated the fact that he was +the greatest in the world, and so he shall be, in this story, +as well. We are compelled to quote the "Big Noise" +again. It claimed, very urgently, that these papers were +paid to corroborate the detective. So be it.</p> + +<p>The leading dailies and the greatest detective in the +world got together, with a view to obtaining a new trial +for the Jew, after which they hoped, of course, in some +subtle manner, to extricate him from his very embarrassing +predicament.</p> + +<p>The detective did the posing, and he was <i>some</i> poser, +and the papers did the rest. The most obstinate proposition +which they were up against, was that the people +believed the Jew to be guilty, but naturally read the +papers.</p> + +<p>Now The Great Detective's picture had been seen by +almost everybody who read, or ever had read anything, +so we must appreciate that he was a familiar figure. But, +in addition to what had occurred in regard to the detective, +more came to pass. Pages of the Sunday edition +were devoted to his cut, and other pages to his ability +as a mystery solver. From the way the papers wrote of +him and reproduced his pose, he made Sherlock Holmes, +Raffles, Arsene Lupin, and even Nick Carter, look like +thirty cents with the three invisible.</p> + +<p>He began, in opening the case, a series of angles. At +first, of course, he viewed it from an Attalia angle. +Forthwith, after this, he went to Chicago and viewed it +from a windy angle. From St. Louis, he viewed it from +a "show me" angle; and while he was out that way, he +chased across to Kansas City, and saw it from that angle. +And 'ere anyone was aware of it, he had crossed the +prairies to Denver, and viewed it from a mountain angle.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +Behold then, upon picking up the morning paper, where +the great detective has reached New York, and was +viewing the case from that angle; but space will not +permit of recording further these many angles indulged +in by <i>the greatest detective in the world</i>, for the defendant +in the case of the state versus the Jew.</p> + +<p>All of these angles were followed with much color by +the Attalia papers. Moreover, papers elsewhere mysteriously +took up the Jew's cause, by following the angles +of the detective. All except the "Big Noise." It was +busy viewing the detective from its angle. But it was +not, of course, endowed with such an abundance of +readers, therefore, for the time, it was not noticed much. +It was later, however.</p> + +<p>Now we come to the most extraordinary phase of the +case, leaving the prisoner in his cell for the present.</p> + +<p>While all this angling was going on, witnesses who had +testified for the state, and whose testimony had resulted +disasterously for the defendant, began to come up mysteriously, +with affidavits to the effect that what they +had sworn to was a falsehood, no, a lie! Many of them +declared, in these affidavits, that they were inspired to +make these statements, that they might face their God +with the truth on their lips! The city became chaotic. +No one had even suspected that the city possessed such +people. This renouncing of testimony developed into an +almost everyday affair. "Everybody was doin' it". So +it came to pass, in an incredibly short time, that almost +every one who had supplied damaging testimony against +the Jew, had renounced it.</p> + +<p>The newspapers were the most interesting things to +read in Attalia during this spell. But more mysteries +followed in due order. Every one who produced, or had +produced an affidavit, renouncing his or her previous +testimony, became automatically prosperous, no, we'll +have to change this statement. They did, and again +they didn't. Alas! Some had not received all they had +been mysteriously promised, it seems. And still others, +unaccustomed to wealth, and feeling that money is rightfully +the medium for the good things they had never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +been able to enjoy, including liquor, proceeded to fulfill +this long felt desire. So, many got drunk. And, trust +John Barleycorn to do the rest, they imparted secrets to +their near friends. And then, of course, the friends imparted +such illuminating information to their friends, +whereupon it was duly imparted, in time, to the people +through the paper.</p> + +<p>Truth combined with a conscience, is always a danger, +a menace to falsity. And, of course, not every one possesses +the strength to stand on a falsehood, therefore—and +in an incredibly short time—affidavits began to be voluntarily +offered by these many, to the effect that the +renunciation was a falsehood; the original testimony +was true, quite true. Accompanying many of these latter +affidavits, was money.</p> + +<p>We are reminded at this point of Judas and the thirty +pieces of silver.</p> + +<p>Conspicuous throughout the trial, and conducting the +prosecution, was one Doray, the solicitor, and he was +there, very much so. Doray became quite busy about +this time. He had ambition, and was being mentioned +for the governorship. So the state, with its many poor +people and slim treasury, labored relentlessly in the +prosecution, while the purse of the Jew seemed to have +no limit.</p> + +<p>We return to <i>The Great Detective</i>, the greatest one in +all the world.</p> + +<p>Naturally, when he began, with the reputation he possessed, +with the notorious angling, with hundreds of +newspapers all over the country supporting him, and +from the fact that he had uncovered many dark plots, +many people took notice. A half dozen extra editions +was the average per day, but some days they reached a +dozen, all replete with subtle mystery. The populace +lived in an ecstacy of expectation. They were hurdled +between so many conflictions, until they knew not what +they were expecting. But, as the days went by and the +mystery deepened, they glared dry-eyed at the headlines +of the many extras, expecting at last that the greatest +detective in the world would lead forth a diabolical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +creature otherwise than the Jew, declaring, and subsequently +proving him to be the murderer.</p> + +<p>He did, but he was not a man of mystery.</p> + +<p>The announcement came in a blazing morning extra. +Shops were forgotten, people gathered upon the streets, +blocked the corners, and everything became a medley of +excitement, as the news became general.</p> + +<p>"The real murderer of a little innocent girl has been +found!"</p> + +<p>The population waited in abated breath. In the order +in which he had reported, or as had been reported by the +papers, the detective set a day upon which he would +point, with the forefinger of his right hand, straight to +the murderer.</p> + +<p>The day would never come, everybody seemed to feel. +All the anxiety attendant during the trial, before as well +as after, for it must be understood that the Jew had not +been seen to kill the girl, was lived over again during this +spell. But at last the mighty day came. It was a dark, +drizzly, gloomy, forlorn day. Just the kind for what was +now the order in Attalia. On this day, the people now +felt, the real murderer would be placed in the lime light. +The detective had declared, a few days after he had been +retained and put on the case, that the Jew was innocent. +Moreover, he declared that the prosecution, abetted by +public sentiment, had been affected in its decision, by +the worst of all that is inherent in our advanced society, +race prejudice. He lied here—and knew it. There is +no prejudice in Attalia against any race but one, of which +we will pass. In addition, he flaunted in the face of the +people, the idea of perversion on the part of the Jew, of +which the latter had been accused. This accusation had +been advanced as the only excuse for the murder, of +which he stood accused. But the real murderer was that +day announced as per reports.</p> + +<p>"Jim Dawkins," cried the detective, "killed that girl! +So now, free this poor man thou hast persecuted these +many months, and hang that murderer, that beast, that +pervert, for he is guilty!"</p> + +<p>It was some time before the people recovered. Many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +of them had to pinch themselves to be quite sure they +were awake; for it was positively incredible, after all +this waiting, after all this angling, after all the mystery, +that this detective, the greatest one in all the world, by +his own admission and that of the press, should come +right back to where the case had begun.</p> + +<p>Jim Dawkins was the Negro accused in the first instance.</p> + +<p>And now we hear from the "Big Noise"—and it made +some noise now. Moreover, the public, with a relief +from their long tension, began to hear it. Its editor had +once run for president, on a ticket we cannot recall; +moreover, he had the reputation of being opposed to +every man elected to anything in the state and the +United States. This included the democrats, of whom +he, although a southerner, was not one.</p> + +<p>The people now bought and read his paper with as +much eagerness as they had the others, in the beginning.</p> + +<p><i>The Great Detective</i> was absent for a week following his +sensational discovery. (?) Then he returned, but alas! +The day of angles had become contagious, as we shall +see presently.</p> + +<p>Following his return, he happened to go to a nearby +town to view the case from that angle. This town happened +to have been the home of the murdered girl. So, +when the great detective whirled into town, seated in +the tonneau of a huge automobile, they proceeded at +once to entertain him with true southern chivalry. (?)</p> + +<p>A night extra told all about it, before he had returned +to Attalia, which was marvelous, when one considers this +place was only twenty miles away, and from reports, the +car took its highest speed on the return, at least it did +in leaving the other town. But, lest we forget, the eggs +used at this entertainment could not all have been +guaranteed as the freshest. And with a few more words, +we leave this story.</p> + +<p>Shortly after this, Edwards and Smyles took their +leave. Wyeth missed them considerably, for he had +grown very fond of them about the office. When they +were far, far away, the mystery connected with their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +occupation was still unsolved. Then, one day while +Sidney was folding up an old newspaper, his eye happened +to fall upon an article of two paragraphs. It related to +an incident that cleared up the whole thing, and was to +the effect that, while doing some sleuthing on the ground +floor, Smyles had, after refusing to explain the occasion +of his mysterious action, been arrested and locked up for +an hour, at the end of which the great detective had come +forward and got him out.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be blowed!" exclaimed Sidney, for it +revealed that his two friends were detectives, in the +employ of the noted chief, and hired, no doubt, to view +the case from a "dark" angle. But the most extraordinary +part of it all, was that their names were not +Smyles nor Edwards either, but—I guess it doesn't +matter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN" id="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN"></a>CHAPTER THIRTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Cause Nigga's 's Gittin' so Rich</i>"</p> + + +<p>In the building to the furthest end from where Wyeth's +office was now located, he observed a man one day. He +was standing in front of the bank. He was a white man, +and was tall and slender, while his complexion was sandy, +his hair red and awry. His eyes were keen and piercing. +"A collector," thought Sidney, for there were so many +about the building, especially on Monday, and this was +the day. He lurked in the entry on Tuesday, when +Wyeth passed that way. "Must be a contractor, the +way he is studying the inside of the bank," mumbled +Wyeth, as he took the elevator upward.</p> + +<p>Wednesday came, gray and gloomy, and then it rained. +It was four o'clock and thirty minutes in the afternoon. +Sidney passed through the entry to the elevator on his +way to the office of Dickson, and again the man stood +there. He had drawn no conclusion as to what was the +occasion of this presence, when from behind came a +sound. He did something else then. So did others +about him.</p> + +<p>"Throw up your hands, nigger, and get into that +vault!" came a command.</p> + +<p>It was from the man he had seen, and he was holding +up the bank.</p> + +<p>There was a silence, followed by a scuffle, then a lull, +and a shot, and still later,—for the shot went wild, +landing in the ceiling where it cracked the plastering, +and made bits of it fall upon a score of frightened +Negroes—a thud. This had not gone amiss. There was +a groan and a dull sound, as some one sank to the floor. +This part was witnessed by Wyeth and others. It was +the teller, and the son of the bank's president. On the +floor he lay bleeding, while the other was standing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +frightened over him. Then he looked up. Open-mouthed +like dumb creatures, Negros of all shades, including the +green, stood about. And then the man seemed to awaken +to the emergency, and the danger.</p> + +<p>Those Negroes would not be dumb for all time. He +sensed this aright. And then he took initiative, action. +With a flash, he fired off the huge gun, and with a leap +and a bound, he came forth, while Negroes, black and +brown, yellow and green, and some white, fell back upon +each other, in a hurry. He had plenty of room, for a time, +and made use of it. Out into the hallway he must perforce +come on his way to the street, and freedom. He +started, but one little moment he hesitated. Then, firing +again, he made his great rush. Through the hallway he +dashed, and entered the street through a side door that +was open before him. A moment later he was gone.</p> + +<p>But so were the others.</p> + +<p>They were led by a barber, who shaved black faces +next door. He was a mulatto with a flat nose, which +made his appearance grotesque. With a roar like that of +a mad guerilla, he ran in hot pursuit. Away they went, +all of them now, including Wyeth.</p> + +<p>The barber led the others by far, and in his hand, +open for action, was a razor. It seemed quite large to +Wyeth as it glistened in the sunlight, for the day had +cleared. Perhaps he was seeing double, but he followed +while the "victim"—which we shall call the other—preceded +the other only slightly. The barber was breaking +wind now, but gaining nevertheless.</p> + +<p>As Wyeth followed in that dark pursuit, a picture of +the possible consequences rose before him. This Negro, +scion of two races, embittered by an instance in our +history that will never die, was wild. Blood, blue blood, +it was he thirsted. All the hatred of a thousand or more +years was now privileged, by the unwritten law, to give +vent. This other has attempted crime—the robbery of +the people's where-with-all. To kill him now was to get +revenge, revenge upon those who have long since died—and +go scott free!</p> + +<p>Perhaps the other appreciated this point of view.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> + +<p>He rushed pellmell, wildly through the street he came +into, and turned at the end up another that led, whither, +he did not take time to think or to consider. It seemed +impossible for the man to escape dire consequences, as +Sidney Wyeth saw him now. He wished he could save +him, but he did not know how. Only a few steps ahead, +the culprit led the other. It was only a question of +minutes—a minute. And then—horrors!</p> + +<p>Up this new street, which happened to be Herald, they +went, and closer and closer the Negro came to the victim. +He was breaking wind fearfully. A block had been +covered, when, ahead to the left stood a laundry with +doors wide open. Then, suddenly, when abreast of it, +the victim plunged into it, but so did the barber. Others +followed, and workers fell back amazed. To the rear the +chase led, and then, lo! A brick wall faced the victim, +with a closed door only. This door could not be opened +in time! That appeared to settle it! The poor creature, +frightened out of his wits, fell to the floor, and then rose +to one knee, with hands stretched Heavenward. At last +the end had come. The Negro now, the picture of which +our pen cannot describe, stood over him with razor upraised, +and eyes dancing with murder like huge coals of +fire. "Don't cut me with that razor, Mister," the victim +whimpered. He pushed the other back until he was +against the door. For the first time in his life, Sidney +Wyeth was to see a man killed. One moment he looked. +The sunlight played through a transom window, falling +strangely upon the blade of that poised razor. He closed +his eyes to shut out the fearful sight. The next moment, +he opened them as he heard a noise—a momentous +instant. It was the opening of the door, against which +the victim had been pushed.</p> + +<p>A moment later, the two went over the steps a-tumble, +below; but the razor had flown in a direction which they +had not gone, and the tension was relieved.</p> + +<p>Soon, the victim emerged from the rear, and another +chase began; but the razored Negro was then far to the +rear. He eluded his pursuers for a moment during the +mix-up. But suddenly in chorus they cried:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dere 'e goes, cetch 'im!"</p> + +<p>The crowd had now grown to a mob, a sullen mob. +They cried out in loud tones for blood, blue blood; but +the culprit was illusive. A street car was passing, and +into it he vaulted. "I've shot a coon," he cried; "and +the niggers are after me!" The car lunged forward as +the mob reached the door, whereupon they looked into +the muzzle of a revolver held in the hand of the conductor, +as he commanded: "Stand back!" They did, +but 'ere he had gone far, there came to his ears from the +crowd in the rear:</p> + +<p>"'S robbed d' bank! 'Es robbed d' bank!"</p> + +<p>The conductor immediately rang to stop. The victim +rang to go forward. The motorman obeyed the former, +and the car slowed down. The victim leaped off before +it came to a halt, while at the rear, the mob, howling like +a bunch of savages, came on in mad fury.</p> + +<p>Then he tore across the street to where an old man, +with bent shoulders and flowing white beard, sat half +asleep in a buggy. He rushed to the side of this, and +permitted the old relic to smell the muzzle, as he cried: +"Unload!" The old man did, in a pile. The victim +jumped in, and, jerking the whip from the socket, brought +the old horse, half asleep also, to appreciate the state +of affairs, by dealing him a blow that made his tail stick +out, as his legs speeded up the street. The crowd roared +diabolically, as they saw themselves being left to the +rear; but many on bicycles gave chase, and followed in +close pursuit. He suddenly drew his revolver, and let go +the trigger, which made a flash, point blank in their +midst. That settled it. One fell to the street with a +sad, sickening cry, an arm limp at his side. The others +gave up, turned back, and quickly went the other way.</p> + +<p>And then he disappeared.</p> + +<p>Wyeth had returned to the scene of the opening—so +had the rest. And the crowd, combined with those who +had gathered about the bank in the meantime, filled +Audubon Avenue the entire length of the building, a +block and a half on the side. All was uproar. Report +followed report, and each flashed through the crowd with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +much comment. He had, so the news ran, been captured +here, and everywhere. As it stood, he had not been +captured at all. Opinions, expressions, conclusions and +rejections were in order on all sides. One was to the +effect that the big banks uptown, conducted by "whi' +fo'kes," had conspired the deal on account of fear, +"'cause nigga's 's a-gittin so rich 'n 'a-posit'n they +money in the cullud bank, ontell dem whi' fo'kes done +'trigued' and got dat low down po' whi' man t' come and +tri' t' frustrate us 'spectable cullud fo'kes." And again +there came to the ears of Sidney another report, and this +was one of graver concern.</p> + +<p>"Robbers 'roun' a-stealin' d' money, go'n be fus' one +dare in d' mawnin' t' draw mine out!"</p> + +<p>"Gwan, you fool nigga! Yu' ain' got nothin' in dere; +'n' yu' aut a-be run outta town fo' talkin' lak dat!"</p> + +<p>"Who dat obber dare, da' whi' man dressed so 'maculete +wi' du soft hat?"</p> + +<p>"Dat's Judson, d' 'porter on d' Jou'nal."</p> + +<p>"Who dat udder one wi' a big nose 'n' dark 'plection!"</p> + +<p>"Ain' you ebber been 'rested, nigga, 'n' up a-fo' Jedge +Ly'l's, 'n' seen 'im a-hangin' 'roun'? Dat's Jempsy, d' +putective."</p> + +<p>"Lis'n! lis'n! Wha' dat! Dey has captured 'im!" +Forthwith, to another point they rushed, through a +bunch collected around the barber, who was then telling +and retelling "'Ow close ah come t' gittin' 'im."</p> + +<p>It was not a report this time, but the ambulance that +was taking the wounded teller to his home. The sight +of him, with bandaged head as a result of the attempt, +served to renew the local race animosity.</p> + +<p>"Ah sho 's go'n kill me a whi' man, so 'elp me Jaysus!" +muttered a dinge, as the carriage passed him by, while +all about dark faces scowled ominously.</p> + +<p>Darkness was approaching, when an authentic report +came at last, to the ears of the crowd. The would-be +robber had really been captured, and it was the papers +that gave forth the news.</p> + +<p>His name, so he said, was Rhynata, a "vaudevillian," +who hailed from Denver. His capture had been thus:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span></p> + +<p>When he had eluded the mob, by holding up the old +man for his horse and buggy, he followed that street for +only a block, when he turned into another. After the +crowd was lost, he left the buggy, and walked hurriedly +up the street, turned a corner, and disappeared in the +basement of a house.</p> + +<p>A plainclothes man, some while later, happened to pass +that way in trying to locate him, and followed him +therein. When he got to the second story, he came into +a room where a woman was bathing, with a damp towel, +the head of a man in bed. He backed up, begging pardon, +and turned to leave. As he was passing a dresser, in a +half open drawer, his eye espied a revolver which his +hand forthwith touched. The barrel was warm, which +told the rest of the story.</p> + +<p>The settlement began the next day before Judge Loyal. +His court room was filled that day, but the greatest +crowd was outside. The man was duly identified as the +culprit, by many, including the Negro with the razor, +was as duly bound over under a bond that no one cared +to go, and a few months later was brought to trial, convicted +on two charges, and subsequently sent to the chain +gang for five years.</p> + +<p>He should have much of that yet to serve, but he +escaped—rather, he walked away a few months later, +and has not been intercepted at the time of this writing—but +this is not our story.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN" id="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN"></a>CHAPTER FOURTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>And Then Came Slim</i></p> + + +<p>Wintertime had flown, and over all the country, +springtime had blossomed. On one of those beautiful +days, Slim came to the office of Sidney Wyeth. His real +name was V.R. Coleman, but, since he was so tall and +slender, to Wyeth, "Slim" seemed more appropriate, +particularly when the other did not object. This name, +however, was applied sometime later, and not on this +particular day.</p> + +<p>In Dixie there are many original characters, and this +has made it the source of humor. Undoubtedly, the +Negro is the background of most of it, and justly plays +the part. Conspicuous among these original characters, +there is a particular class of men who will work from the +time frost falls in November, until the birds sing again +in the last days of March. When the smell of the honeysuckle, +and the buzz of the bee become a part of the day, +they succumb to an inevitable longing to mingle, and +become "human" bees themselves. So, by the time May +has arrived, and spring chickens are large enough to fry, +they go forth to the open, choosing many varied ways—but +always an easy one—of living until the leaves begin +to fall again.</p> + +<p>Most of these men preach; for, since the beginning of +the present order, this has been the easiest way. No +learning, of course, is required, so long as they can spell +"ligon" and preach "dry bones." Of course, if the +character is a good "feeler," with the magnetism, sufficient +eloquence, and a severe frown with it, he "gets +by" much easier. Conditions, it must be observed, are +changing, even in Dixie. And, it is a fact that a Negro +preacher is beginning to pay for a meal occasionally.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> + +<p>But there were other ways of "gettin' by" as well, +though not nearly so prevalent as preaching. It was in +quest of such a way, no doubt, that Slim came to the +office that day. Wyeth had become acquainted with him +while canvassing during the winter. He was, at that +time, employed in a grocery store as man of much work, +a part of which consisted in driving a little black mule +about the streets, before a wagon in which he delivered +groceries.</p> + +<p>They had become friends, and Slim was, in the opinion +of Wyeth, an original and sociable being also. He had +informed Wyeth that music was his line; singing schools +he claimed to have conducted with great success. So, +during the summer and spring months, and some time +into the fall, he carried the title of professor. And it +was as such, that Wyeth welcomed him that day.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Professor," he greeted him cordially, arising +from his chair, and grasping the other's hand, with much +ostentation. "Professor" was ushered into a seat, where +he crossed his long legs with much dignity, and gazed +out the window for a moment, without saying other than +the return of the greeting.</p> + +<p>As he sat by the window at that time, it was hard to +even <i>fancy</i> his driving a mule in front of a load of groceries.</p> + +<p>"Ah, my friend," he began, after he had swept the +street below with a careful gaze. "I am glad indeed to +see you, and to find you occupying such a delightful +office." He scanned the office now, with an admiring +gaze, and went on: "You are sure fixed up in great +style, just grand, grand!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, fair," Sidney admitted carelessly. "I am, however, +glad you dropped in, for I have been thinking about +you for some time."</p> + +<p>"I am honored," said the other, with an elevation of +the eyebrows.</p> + +<p>"Yes," resumed Sidney, with a serious and thoughtful +expression, "it has always been my opinion, that a man +with the bearing and dignity you obviously possess, +could be much more in keeping with society, in a position +that would employ such a wealth of ability."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> + +<p>Slim did not make immediate answer to this, for the +simple reason that he was too flushed with vanity by the +words, to do other than color to the roots of his hair, and +swallow.</p> + +<p>"When I see a man like you carrying groceries up the +back way of a house, let me tell you, Professor," Wyeth +said flatteringly, "I can't help, in a measure, but feel +despair for our race; but I was told by a very responsible +party, that your health required such an expedient." +Slim was then in the seventh Heaven of vanity, and +looked away to hide the tears of gratitude, he felt toward +the man who had courage sufficiently to admit what he +himself felt. He admired Sidney Wyeth on the spot.</p> + +<p>Wyeth went on to say, "Now, for instance, I am in +the book business, which was never better. I have been +anxious to enlist a good man's service." As he said this, +he looked in Slim's direction, and went on: "But I did +not wish to place this matter before you, until a time I +felt you would be in a position to consider it, possibly, +favorably." He paused long enough for his words to +take effect, then continued, "So Professor, I should like +to have you consider this matter with a view to taking +it up."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, Mr. Wyeth," his honor began, "I confess +that I have been thinking of that myself." He was silent +a minute, then proceeded again: "My health is improved +to such an extent, that I have, of course, emancipated +myself from a position of drudgery," and here he drew +himself up, with more ostentation than ever. "I shall +be glad to tell you, when it is more convenient, and we +have the time, of my career as a business man back +where I came from. You can, I see, appreciate a man +that is possessed of ability," and he looked down at himself +at this point, before continuing. Directly he said: +"I shall be glad to have you explain this matter in +regard to the book."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Wyeth, slowly, "you should have some +idea of the work, since, with your years back in South +Carolina, you were so successful; but more so, since you +have been over a territory I have worked."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You certainly did fill Brookville with it, I must say," +he admitted.</p> + +<p>Wyeth smiled.</p> + +<p>"Wish you hadn't worked that neighborhood, though," +he said regretfully.</p> + +<p>"Others are yet to be worked...."</p> + +<p>"But I know everybody in that neighborhood."</p> + +<p>"So do I—now."</p> + +<p>Slim laughed a low, sorrowful laugh, and then was +thoughtful. Then he inquired: "What commission do you +pay?"</p> + +<p>"Forty per cent. Sixty cents the book."</p> + +<p>"Do I have to pay for the books before I can have +them to deliver?"</p> + +<p>"I can, of course, trust you, Professor," Wyeth replied; +"but the last one I trusted, and who took eighteen copies +out for the purpose of delivery, has not shown up since."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! Did he send the books back, or leave them +somewhere?"</p> + +<p>"He left them somewhere—several where's."</p> + +<p>"Then you—ah—got them back?"</p> + +<p>"Not yet."</p> + +<p>"But you will?"</p> + +<p>"Not likely. The people he left them with paid him +$1.50 a copy therefor, but I have charged that to the +dust, and it has rained since. You think over this proposition +and come back tomorrow morning, and we will +get down to business. Should you decide to take it up, +I shall be glad to have you accompany me an afternoon, +and hear me spiel it."</p> + +<p>The following morning, full of book selling, Slim was +on hand. Moreover, he wished to begin that morning, +but, as Sidney had made no arrangement to that end, he +was compelled to wait until the afternoon.</p> + +<p>"I used to sell books in South Carolina," he said later, +as he was looking through the book.</p> + +<p>"You have had some experience then," commented +Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"Wait until I commence. I'll show you a thing or +two."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I have a 'hunch' you'll 'clean up,'" said Wyeth +with feigned admiration.</p> + +<p>"You sold a book to somebody I know on Fourteenth +Street....," he smiled.</p> + +<p>"I thought you said I sold to many you know. I +think I did," said Wyeth innocently.</p> + +<p>"I know this one a little <i>better</i> than the rest," he admitted, +now showing his teeth, despite his effort to keep +his upper lip stiff.</p> + +<p>"Oh—ho, I see now," laughed Wyeth, good naturedly. +After a pause he said:</p> + +<p>"Who is she? Come, 'fess up. At what number does +she work?" But at this Slim only laughed, and left his +friend curious.</p> + +<p>That afternoon, at two o'clock sharp, they sallied +forth. Going to Dalton street, they entered a cafe conducted +by some people in the last stage of hook-worm +hustle.</p> + +<p>"What'll you genamens have?" asked the waitress, +who looked so tired and sleepy.</p> + +<p>Sidney scanned the greasy bill-of-fare, while Slim inquired: +"What have you?" As she drawled out the +list, Sidney's ears came attentive to the orders being +given by others.</p> + +<p>"Snout."</p> + +<p>"Yo's, mistah!"</p> + +<p>"Pig tail 'n' swee' taters."</p> + +<p>"'N' yo's?"</p> + +<p>"Stewed haid."</p> + +<p>"Ah wan' some magetti," sang a small boy on a stool, +with papers under his arm.</p> + +<p>"Gimme a yeah sanrich," from one with a very loud +mouth.</p> + +<p>Slim was very hard to please, as it now appeared, and +was having some difficulty in being satisfied.</p> + +<p>"What is your specialty here?"</p> + +<p>"Ah don' tole you du' ohdahs already. We has hog +year, 'n' hog snoot, 'n' pig tail, 'n' collap greens, 'n'—"</p> + +<p>"Give us a pair of feet," interposed Wyeth.</p> + +<p>After the meal, they turned into a side street, crossed a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +back yard and entered a house from the rear. Ahead, a +flight of steps led up through the basement, to the +kitchen. Up this they went, and rapped on the kitchen +door. It was opened by a woman, presumably the cook. +Wyeth raised his hat, while Slim did likewise; whereupon +she was very much flattered. Said Wyeth: "Yes, +ma'am! How-do-you-do. You will pardon our interrupting +you, but I suppose you are the lady employed +herein," and gazed into the kitchen before him.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she replied embarrassed. "I work here."</p> + +<p>"Very well, thank you." Then turning, he revealed +his honor, bending almost to the floor. "This is Professor +Coleman!" Their prospective customer was very profuse +as she accepted the introduction, and then was curious +to know to whom she was indebted. Presently, unable +to withstand the wait, she inquired:</p> + +<p>"Are you preachers?"</p> + +<p>Wyeth looked at Slim who had his hat rolled up, and +was showing his teeth, then turned back to the lady and +replied that they were not. He then, without further +ado, began his spiel, putting more dynamite into it than +usual, since he wished to make an impression upon Slim +as well.</p> + +<p>"I presume from your English, madam, that you are +literarily inclined, in fact, I feel certain you are." He +bestowed upon her a hypnotic smile, which he had +cultivated for the purpose of impression, and then went +on, with eloquence:</p> + +<p>"This is <i>The Tempest</i>, a tale of the great northwest, in +which we follow the fortunes of this young man," and +he showed his picture on the frontispiece. In this same +picture, people seldom recognized himself as the hero. +Before long, he had her order, and a half dozen more, +and Slim was enthusiastic. When they were on the +street for a time again, Slim said, with much admiration:</p> + +<p>"<i>Man</i>, but you are <i>a</i> salesman! The spiel and look +you turn on these cooks and maids and house girls, and +everybody, is guaranteed to make the dead take notice. +I can never get over laughing when I think of the old +lady back there, the one who said: 'I am not decided<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +yet as to whether I shall take it,' Then you said, and +as serious as she was: 'Let me decide for you in this,'" +and then he gave up to laughter for some minutes.</p> + +<p>"Think you can learn it?" said Sidney.</p> + +<p>"I want you to let me take this house," said Slim, +halting before an imposing structure.</p> + +<p>"All right," said Wyeth. "I'll wait for you. Don't +get struck on the house girl and stay too long."</p> + +<p>Slim disappeared. A moment later, a noise and the +barking of a vicious dog came to Wyeth's ears, accompanied +immediately by a scuffling. A moment later, +Slim emerged from the back way in very much of a +hurry, with a bull dog in close pursuit. When he was +safe outside once more, he looked about him dubiously. +"I don't like this neighborhood!" he said.</p> + +<p>"You mean <i>that</i> neighborhood," laughed Wyeth. "Did +you make a sale?"</p> + +<p>"Make Hell!" cried Slim, still breathing heavily from +his nervousness. "Talk about making a sale with a +bull dog barking at my heels!" They had, by then, +reached a street that led across town, and they turned +into this. Wyeth took a few orders, but Slim decided to +dispense with further canvassing until the morrow. +Several times, Wyeth tried to steer him into a yard, but +always he observed that his eye wandered around toward +the rear, and since nearly every one kept some kind of a +dog—the most of which would rather play than anything +else—it was hard to reconcile Slim.</p> + +<p>At last he managed to get him through a gate that +was close to the rear door, and, while he explained his +mission to the cook, Slim gave the house girl a good +talk, but she smiled on him and said: "I purchased one +from the other gentleman already."</p> + +<p>This served to relieve him at least, and also encouraged +him to a more concentrated effort later.</p> + +<p>When they returned to the office, Slim was again full +of the book business. The next day he went out for himself. +After a few houses had been made, however, he +must have met another "sociable" dog, for, shortly +afterward, Wyeth saw him depart.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p>That afternoon, when they met again at the office, he +was surprised to learn that Slim had taken several names, +and was in the highest of spirits. Wyeth was too, but +from other causes. He had taken about eight orders, +when he came into a back yard from an alley. Through +a screen, he caught a glimpse of a girl working in the +kitchen. He approached the house, and presently knocked +on the door. She opened it with an inquiry. He looked +up into her face from where he stood on the ground. +She looked down into his, and blushed as she looked +away. She made an impression, and he was, for a moment, +lost in a maze of delight. Soon he was serious, however, +and said he wished to speak with her on important +business. This was his style. He had observed that +agents, the minute a door was opened, began a spiel +without getting the attention of the prospective customer, +so he made it a practice to get their attention first, and +leave them in doubt until he did, before disclosing his +business. If he failed to do this, he usually went his +way, without letting them know what he was selling. +But, to get back to the girl.</p> + +<p>She declared that she was very busy at the time, but +would be glad if he'd come back shortly. "In about an +hour," she advised, as she watched him walk toward the +gate. He went his way with a subtle swimming of the +head.</p> + +<p>He passed the next hour mechanically, made several +sales, of which he was hardly aware, and at the end of +the hour, he returned. She was waiting for him. He +smothered his interest, and told her the story in brief.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's fine!" she exclaimed, in an ecstasy of +delight, when he had finished. "When do you deliver?"</p> + +<p>"Any time," he replied; "but I have several in this +neighborhood for the first. Could you take yours then?" +As he finished, he looked at her strangely. His thoughts +went back to a place and a person he had almost forgotten. (?)</p> + +<p>She looked back at him, smiled, became uneasy, apparently +she did not know how to take him. Then she +asked softly: "Why do you look at me like that?" +And then he came out of it, and replied candidly:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I don't know," he started to say, "because you +remind me of one I once knew—and loved." The very +thought of it, however, now pained him. However, he +dismissed these thoughts from his mind, and was normal +again.</p> + +<p>She appeared as though she would like to say more on +the subject, but instead she added: "Have you been +selling the book long?"</p> + +<p>"Ever since publication," he admitted frankly.</p> + +<p>The past lingered with him for some time, but it was +temporarily forgotten, when he had returned to the +office, and noted Slim's success.</p> + +<p>"You're there, Professor," he beamed, while the other +assumed an air of modesty.</p> + +<p>A few days later—and he was apparently successful in +the meantime—Slim said to Wyeth: "I want you to go +with me tomorrow. I've found a 'nest.'"</p> + +<p>"A hornet nest?" asked Wyeth humorously. Slim +looked uncomfortable. He had a good memory.</p> + +<p>"I'm serious. Out there around the colleges, man, are +some of the finest people you ever met, and rich! They +own homes that will open your eyes."</p> + +<p>"M-m. Are <i>these</i> orders from them, or have they told +you they would '<i>think</i>' it over and you could drop in +when you were in the neighborhood again?" Slim's face +fell for a moment, then he said, while Wyeth thought he +detected something.</p> + +<p>"These orders are from <i>good</i> people in and around that +neighborhood." He paused for a spell, and resumed, with +a frown: "I have been thinking very seriously, that you +could do much better among the people in their homes, +and wouldn't need to go snoopin' around to the rear. +I must confess, Mr. Wyeth, that I have never been overly +anxious to confine the most of my work to domestics, as +you seem to choose."</p> + +<p>Again Sidney smiled, while Slim paused, disconcertedly.</p> + +<p>"Now this list I have here, should convince you that +you have simply been over-looking the best people, for +the kitchens. So, if you will go along with me tomorrow, +I will convince you to your own satisfaction."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p> + +<p>Wyeth kept out of going with Slim in different ways, +and 'ere long, the day of Slim's first big delivery came.</p> + +<p>Only about forty copies of the book were on hand in +the office, but more were at the freight house, with the +bill-of-lading at the bank, and a sight draft attached for +the cost of the books. Sidney did not have the amount +available to pay it on that day. He reckoned, however, +that the number on hand should have been sufficient, +but Slim didn't think so. He was, moreover, insistent +to a point that moved Sidney to make effort to get the +others out.</p> + +<p>"I think we have books sufficient for today's delivery, +Slim," he argued. "And then Monday, we will get those +at the freight office."</p> + +<p>"It isn't business, it isn't business. I have taken +these people's orders for this book to be delivered today. +There are fifty. I have promised faithfully to bring the +book this day, and when I was in business, I did a thing +when I promised. So I wish you would get the books +you have at the freight office down here at once, so that +I can fill every order and have no disappointments."</p> + +<p>Wyeth looked distressed, but smiled all to himself. +If he had learned anything about selling books to colored +people, and had forty copies to fill fifty orders, he could +figure on having a goodly supply left. But Slim must +have fifty copies, or a book for each order.</p> + +<p>The books he had at the freight office would cost a +pretty sum to get, and he did not have the amount convenient. +He went to the bank and borrowed it. Slim +went with him to the freight office to be sure there would +be no failure; he must have fifty books.</p> + +<p>When they arrived, Sidney was chagrined to find he +had one dollar less than it took to get them. It was only +fifteen minutes before the office would close, its being +Saturday. Sidney was up against it. Slim was in a +stew. He deluged the other with, "Why didn't you get +them yesterday?" or, "You should have known this +office closes at twelve o'clock today." And in the end he +gave up entirely. Wyeth employed his mind vigorously, +hoping to raise a dollar in fifteen minutes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There's no use," deplored Slim hopelessly. "I will +lose $7 or $8 through your business carelessness." Just +then, Sidney observed a drayman coming toward the +freight house. A thought struck him, and he hailed the +drayman. In a few words, he explained the circumstances, +while the other nodded acquiescence, pulled out +a dollar, and a half hour later, the books were unloaded +at the office.</p> + +<p>Slim breathed a sigh of intense relief. He was a business +man, and told Wyeth so.</p> + +<p>Wyeth admitted it. "Glad to be affiliated with a +gentleman of your ability, and you know it, Professor."</p> + +<p>"You will always find me right up to the point in +business, Mr. Wyeth. That's always been my reputation, +and if you don't believe me, you can go over in +South Carolina, and find out from the people there yourself," +he said, very serious of demeanor.</p> + +<p>"That's all right, Professor. I'll take your word for it."</p> + +<p>At one o'clock P.M. Slim was ready. He had a cab +hired for the occasion, and with fifty nice, clean copies, +wrapped deftly at the publishing house before shipment, +he sallied forth.</p> + +<p>Wyeth was nodding in the office, when, about ten +o'clock that night, he heard some one coming up the stair. +From the way he halted at intervals, and set something +down, he judged he must be carrying a load.</p> + +<p>He was.</p> + +<p>Presently the person reached the landing, and, halting +again, dropped something heavy, then breathed long and +deeply. A moment later, he heard him pick up whatever +it was, and come on toward his door. It was burst +open in a moment, and some one stumbled in behind a +big package.</p> + +<p>It was Slim. He dropped the package as soon as he +was inside, with an air of disgust, and fell, apparently +exhausted, into a chair. He was silent, while he got his +breath. When this had become regular, he got up and +moved to the desk, where he figured for some time. +Wyeth remained silent, but quietly expectant. It came +presently.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Liars! Dirty liars! Stinking, low down, dirty lying +niggas. Damn all of them, damn them!"</p> + +<p>Wyeth was still silent. Slim looked about himself +wearily, and then did some more figuring. Presently +Wyeth heard him again.</p> + +<p>"Lying nigga's, o'nry nigga's, dog-gone the bunch!"</p> + +<p>Wyeth was impatient. He wanted to ask very innocently +what the matter was. Suddenly he saw Slim +looking at him savagely. Wyeth made an effort to look +innocent, and not burst out laughing. After awhile he +heard Slim again.</p> + +<p>"I'm done! I'm through selling books to Negroes +<i>now</i>!" He then arose, and strode back and forth across +the room in a terrible temper.</p> + +<p>Wyeth started to say: "You mean you are through +getting orders." But he waited.</p> + +<p>"The first old nigga I come up to, looked up when he +saw me, and then just laffed, 'ke-ha!' Then, when I +held the book toward him, he said: 'Yu' betta' gwan +'way frum heh wi' dat book!' And then just laffed +again, like it was something so funny. I got mad right +then, but kept my temper and said:</p> + +<p>"'What's the matter with you! Didn't you order this +book from me two weeks ago?'" He paused at this stage, +and looked at Wyeth again with a savage glare. "But +that old devil just kept on laffing like a vaudeville show +was before him, instead of me with the book he had +ordered, and which he told me to be sure, <i>sure</i> to bring +today. My nigga was rising now; but just then I heard +a little half-naked kid: 'Uh! Misteh! 'oo might's well +ferget it. 'Cause th' ole man there,' pointing to the old +sinner, 'orders sumpin' from eve' agent what comes +'long; puvidin' i' do'n cos' nuthin' t' give th' odah.' +And all the time that old coon was just laffing, 'ke-ha!'" +He gave Wyeth another glare, and went on:</p> + +<p>"The next one I come onto looked at the book as +though it was something dangerous. And then he squints +up at me—I think he must have been near-sighted—and +says: 'Sah, I decided since I give you that odah, that I +wa'n't go'n' take th' book.' When he saw my eyes, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +could see I was mad enough to kill him on the spot. +He saw danger in them too, because, near-sighted or not, +he began edging away, but again I held back my nigga +and says: 'What in Hell you mean by making up your +mind like that!'"</p> + +<p>"He must have been drinking Sparrow Gin when he +gave you that order," suggested Wyeth, with a twinkle +of the eye.</p> + +<p>"What?" inquired Slim, listening.</p> + +<p>"I'd advise you to take along a little corn liquor the +next time you go to deliver; pour a little juice into +them; get them drunk. They'll take their books then."</p> + +<p>Slim kicked a piece of paper on the floor before him +viciously, and said: "I'll take along a club and knock +their lying heads off their shoulders, 's what I'll do."</p> + +<p>"Did you have enough books?" inquired Wyeth, +ignoring the big package Slim had brought in.</p> + +<p>"You seem possessed with no sympathy, Mr. Wyeth," +he complained, and then grew thoughtful. Presently, +seeming anxious to tell more of his experiences, he went +on. "One woman I had an order from, when I knocked +on the door, she opened it and said: 'I'm so sorry, but +my husband won't let me take that book,' and then she +handed me a nickel, saying, 'so I'm going to give you +this for your trouble.' I could not, of course, be ugly, +as much as I felt like it, but I had to say something. +So I inquired, as kind as I could under the circumstances, +'What am I to do with this?' She looked distressed at +first, then brightened with a thought, and replied, as +though she were doing something wonderful: 'Why, you +can use it for car fare. You won't have to walk back.'"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIFTEEN" id="CHAPTER_FIFTEEN"></a>CHAPTER FIFTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Shoo Fly</i>"</p> + + +<p>Wyeth had not been able, as yet, to awaken much +literary interest among his people in the south, but he +had a great many agents working all over the north. Of +those he had secured in Dixie, he was deluged with complaints +to the effect that so many people failed to take +the books they ordered; so, he began shipping only +fifteen when an agent sent in an order for thirty books. +This worked better, and the office was not the recipient +of so many complaints thereafter.</p> + +<p>As for Slim, he went with the cook on Fourteenth +Street, ate two meals there out of every three, and canvassed +whenever he felt so disposed. He had some cards +made, only one hundred. Four hundred more would +have cost but little additional. He handed them about, +advertising that he would conduct a singing class at his +residence, beginning any time any one wished lessons. +He was successful in delivering more books, when he +returned to work among the domestics, but not so many +that, at any time afterwards, was Wyeth put to such +strenuous efforts to secure books, in order that he might +have one for every customer.</p> + +<p>When the colleges had closed for vacation, Wyeth +hired the matron to work in the office, and, upon finding +her very interesting, Slim became more in evidence about +the office.</p> + +<p>Just about this time, the auditorium was completed +which was begun two years before, by the lodge of which +B.J. Dickson was the secretary. It was decided to ask +the head of Tuscola, the great Negro educator, to speak +at the dedication services. He was secured, and this fact +caused thousands to gather for the occasion. It gave +Wyeth an opportunity to hear the noted Negro for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +second time in his life, the first being twelve years before, +in Chicago.</p> + +<p>The day came at last. It rained in the forenoon, but +was calm and clear in the afternoon. The night was fit, +and the mammoth place was filled to overflowing, while +thousands, unable to gain admittance, loafed outside, +where they were entertained by a band, that served to +keep them quiet. For Dickson, fully acquainted with +his own race, was aware that they would disturb the +speaker, if some diversion was not resorted to, for their +amusement.</p> + +<p>The speaker looked very tired and worn, and Wyeth +felt a pang at his heart when he saw him. His years of +service were beginning to tell upon him. He had returned +recently from the west, where he had gone for the purpose +of raising $150,000 for his school, and had, as he did in +everything else, succeeded beyond requirements. He +was not only an educator, but a practical business man +as well. To one who sat near him, Sidney Wyeth said +that evening: "And no one of these odd ten millions is +competent, in the public's favor, to take that old man's +place, when eventually he will be called." The other +sighed as he made reply: "There are many, though, who +feel that they and not he should be in the confidence of +the world, and have wasted themselves in uselessness +and inactivity, as a result of their imagination." The +speaker's eyes, at the distance Wyeth saw them, seemed +dazed, and his voice was strained; but he did not soon +forget the words he spoke to those black people, in +dedication of an instant that had been inspired by his +work. B.J. Dickson came in for a worthy praise, which +Wyeth knew he justly deserved.</p> + +<p>It was some two weeks afterwards, that a convention +was held, which brought together a class of men, who +were largely leaders of this race. They were the doctors, +the dentists, the pharmacists, and all men connected with +physical and surgical dispensation; and they came from +two adjoining states also. Sidney Wyeth had, therefore, +opportunity to see his own people from a professional +point of view, and was cheered to observe the most refined<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +set of men of his own kin, that he had ever seen. Dickson +thought so too, and wrote as much in <i>The Independent</i>, +the following week; but he wrote of something else connected +with the same men, and served to show Sidney +Wyeth something he did not know, could not have +believed; but Dickson made it plain to the thousands of +readers of <i>The Independent</i>, of which Wyeth was a constant +reader.</p> + +<p>In the building, conspicuously located on the best +corner, was a drug store, acknowledged to be the finest +drug store operated by black people in the south. The +new building included a street front on another side +street, the drug store and many other trades on the +ground space, with a row of offices to the number of +about twenty-five, especially fitted for physicians and +dentists. All these encircled the auditorium, and were +regarded as the most artistic arrangement in the building. +Moreover, this was advantageous in many ways. At all +events, it happened to be convenient for the men gathered +on the occasion referred to. In addition to being used as +a gathering place, this auditorium could be conveniently +cleared for the purpose of dancing, and was employed for +that purpose, on the night the convention closed. And +this was what B.J. Dickson wrote in the following week's +issue of <i>The Independent</i>:</p> + +<blockquote><p class="center">"COLOR LINE DRAWN AT THE PHYSICIAN'S BALL</p> + +<p>"Last week there was held in Attalia, the annual convention +of the Tri-State Medical Association, as was +stated in last week's issue of <i>The Independent</i>. Never +before has this city been graced by a more refined, and +obviously intelligent class of colored men. From all +over the state, and the two states adjoining, which are +members of the league, came physicians, surgeons, dentists +and pharmacists, representing the highest body of +men in the Negro race. They were entertained in sumptuous +splendor, by the same profession of men in Attalia. +This was facilitated by the fact, that the new buildings +and the auditorium were employed for the occasion, and +the members were not compelled, as they had been in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +the past, to house their social function in some old +deserted hall, in a deserted part of the city.</p> + +<p>"It is, therefore, with deep regret, that we are called, by +the bond of common sense and race appreciation, to +mention a narrowness that pervaded this great occasion.</p> + +<p>"It may be recalled, when the leader of our race spoke +at the dedication, a few weeks past, that, on the committee +were numerous doctors, some of them successful +leaders, and some who were not. Yet it is and always +has been the custom of our people, to honor these men +in the best way we can, for we have long since come to +appreciate that they are a part, and an important part +of this new dispensation. Surely it is in order and keeping +with the uplift of black people, to help men whose training +has fitted them for such an important place. That, +perhaps, is why their conduct of last week has constrained +us to make this mention.</p> + +<p>"They drew the color line. Plainly, and irrevocably. +At the ball, at the stag party, and during the entire +proceedings of the convention. Not a black person save +one—the wife of one of the local physicians who married +her for money—was invited. Such an example shocks us, +so to speak. It seems incredible, in view of the condition +of our race, both morally and mentally. And still, +though we have forced our pen to ignore it, it has been, +and is shown, right along. At the ball, not only was the +color line drawn, but a white orchestra gave the music. +Imagine such a spectacle! In the bourbon and always +democratic south, our people hiring a white orchestra, +at a fabulous sum; for, since long before we were free, +Negroes have made music for the richest white people +to dance by.</p> + +<p>"Surely the old order changeth!</p> + +<p>"Negro doctors live by the patronage of their race, +positively; the white people would not hire one to doctor +a dog. In the dark ages, when it was felt that a Negro +was incompetent for anything else but to act as a slave, +some excuse could be given for Negroes to hire white +doctors. But today, all race loving people give their +practice to their own, except those who are nearly white,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +and wish they were. But more than half of those at the +ball have white doctors, and wouldn't hire one of those +with whom they danced. But Negro doctors expect +Negro practice, and deplore it terribly when Negroes hire +white physicians! On the heels of this, too, they say +"Shoo fly!" to Negro musicians who are competent to +play for the whites, but not for Negro doctors. Like +everything else that relates to our people—except their +money—our professionals wrinkle their faces, and conclude +without trial, that no Negro orchestra is properly +trained to play for their balls; and Negroes who conduct +newspapers do not know enough to write a part of +what they read; books of Negro authors are not read +by them, because they don't know enough—in the minds +of these hypocrites—and so it goes in everything. They +could not have held their convention in the white auditorium, +even if permitted to, because that would have +cost more than they were able to pay.</p> + +<p>"Now, if Negro orchestras are incompetent as musicians +and are, therefore, relegated to the rear, and a white +orchestra is hired to give music, and if Negroes as authors +and editors, do not know enough to write a part of what +they should read, and, moreover, if Negroes who happen +not to be the scion of some white man, and, therefore, +possessed of a yellow face, are not good enough to mingle +and associate with them, then the Negro doctors are not +fit to 'kill' us. Why not let the white man do this? +Admitting that the white orchestra and the white editor +and author have more advantages than do the Negroes +in the same vocation, is it not credible that the same +applies in regard to the doctors? Is it not to be appreciated +that, while the white man, often and mostly +the son of a rich parent, is taking a post-graduate course +abroad, the poor Negro boy is slinging hash in a cheap +hotel—most of the best ones hire white help now—to get +the wherewith to go back and finish school?</p> + +<p>"Oh, we have thought this brave in our people these +many years, and our very hearts and souls and sympathies +have been with them in this great effort!</p> + +<p>"And we are repaid in these terms!<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The black-skinned people who pay them their hard-earned +money, that we might have a representative set +of men as our leaders, have been scorned for their pains!</p> + +<p>"They, the doctors, set up what they silently look upon +as society, "blue-veined people." How they must deplore +that they are colored, in a literal sense! "We are the +best people!" they cry. The insurance companies, +started and led to their present position of success by +black men, use every means, subtle and otherwise, to +throw business to these men. Likewise do the lodges. +And with all that, not more than a dozen or so are making +a decent living in Attalia. We are still very poor people. +Yet when society comes before us, the black ones are not +good enough to play for. We must close. It makes us +sick!"</p></blockquote><p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIXTEEN" id="CHAPTER_SIXTEEN"></a>CHAPTER SIXTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Why Do You Look At Me So Strangely?</i>"</p> + + +<p>The first books came, and among the many orders to +be delivered, was one for the girl who had reminded +Wyeth of a person who now belonged to a closed chapter +of his life. He carried her the book.</p> + +<p>"My madam has not paid me yet," she said regretfully, +"but if you can bring it back next week, I will be +delighted to take it."</p> + +<p>He did so, and she was as good as her word. "I hope +I shall enjoy it," she said, as she paid him.</p> + +<p>"I hope so too," said he. "Practically all I have sold +to told me that they liked it," he added. He looked at +her, and while he was not aware of it, in that moment he +had an insane desire. The past and the one connected +with it, rose for one brief second before him, as he had +known it. She noted the strange look, and was embarrassed. +Presently she recovered from the effect it had, +and said:</p> + +<p>"Why do you look at me so strangely?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," he replied, non-committally.</p> + +<p>She did not understand it, but blushed as she said: +"You are indeed a strange person.... I have thought +about it more than once, since you were here and took +my order. Do you look at all your lady customers like +that?" She looked full into his eyes as she said this, +but what she saw there made her hastily retract.</p> + +<p>"I was only joking. You are singular—strange, +and—I do not know what to think of you; but you are +more than an ordinary agent for the book. I'm sure of +that." He remained silent. She looked keenly at the +picture, and then at him. A small mustache and a +different style in the trimming of his hair; but she inquired +suddenly:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Did you write this book? The picture resembles +you." He looked innocent and said:</p> + +<p>"Do you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed I do," she insisted. '"Then you wrote it?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no, indeed," he lied, earnestly.</p> + +<p>She appeared dubious, and then said, thoughtfully: +"Maybe you have some private reasons for not wishing +to be identified as the author, but I feel positive that +you are." She smiled appreciatively for a moment, as +she surveyed him carefully. "I think you must be smart +and know a great deal, to be able to write such a big +book. I shall always recall with pleasure, that I had the +honor—though he did not acknowledge the fact—of +meeting a real author." She extended her hand, which +he took, as she said: "I am glad to have met you; and +if you write another book, please try to remember that +I would like to have a copy of it. Goodbye."</p> + +<p>Slim was lolling in the office when Sidney returned. +Mrs. Lautier, the clerk and ex-matron, found him very +much to her humor, as did Sidney, and he was appreciated +in the capacity of mirth.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said cheerfully, "I'm doing a little better +now. Delivered six copies today," and almost took +Wyeth's breath away by handing him $5.40.</p> + +<p>"Say," he cried suddenly, when they had settled up. +"I happened upon something today in which I am deeply +interested, and have been very anxious to tell you." He +lowered his voice to a whisper, while Sidney looked +surprised, but listened.</p> + +<p>"It's a grocery stock that can be bought at a bargain."</p> + +<p>"Well?..."</p> + +<p>"A chance for you and me to get in right...."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"We'll buy it?"</p> + +<p>"But I am not in the grocery business. Books!"</p> + +<p>"But you are out to make money?"</p> + +<p>"I don't gather what you want or expect me to do."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll explain." He seated himself comfortably, +and then went on in that low tone of voice. "A fellow +is in partnership with another who is up against it for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +cash, and offers to sell his share, which is a half interest, +at a bargain." He paused again briefly, and then went +on. "I, as you know, having recently quit working in a +grocery, naturally know all about the conducting of one."</p> + +<p>Wyeth nodded understandingly, and remained silent +and patient.</p> + +<p>"I see in this thing the chance I have been waiting for, +and am ready to consider it favorably. Big money is to +be made, can be made out of it for me, and I can, at the +same time and in the same enterprise, become a man of +affairs."</p> + +<p>"M-m," breathed his listener, "How do you propose +to conduct it?"</p> + +<p>"Well," artfully, "first, it should, of course, be incorporated. +And then a competent manager and treasurer +are necessary."</p> + +<p>"M-m. Do you propose to increase the present stock?"</p> + +<p>"Not at once. I think the stock as it stands at the +present, is quite sufficient to care for the trade which, I +have observed, is good."</p> + +<p>"M-m."</p> + +<p>"I thought as a favor, I would tell you and give you a +chance. You could put in an equal share along with +myself, which would give you a fourth interest, and you +could become vice president."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you will, of course, quit selling books, +should you take over the affairs of this—er—corporation?" +said Wyeth, with well feigned regret.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the other, meditatively; "I have not +fully decided as yet. It depends largely upon whether +you can be brought to see the great advantage you would +gain by coming in."</p> + +<p>"But what little I represent—which surely isn't +much—is tied up in the book business. How much will +this thing cost?" Slim winked wisely, held his head low, +and whispered it into his ear.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-five dollars."</p> + +<p>"I'll think it over," said Wyeth, feigning seriousness.</p> + +<p>The next day, Slim had forgotten all about the grocery +business, but tore into the office in an ecstasy of delight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +and secrecy. He had discovered something else. It was +a soda fountain, rather, it was some old fixtures. When +the drug store below had been moved into the new +building, they had stored their old fixtures in an empty +store room near. The same had been vacant for ten +years, but Slim happened by, and saw a grand opportunity +at a glance.</p> + +<p>He told this to Sidney, with much feeling. "It's the +greatest proposition of a decade! We can buy those +fixtures for a song, rent the place they are in cheap, +move the office up there, and conduct a book store and +soda fountain in connection." His eyes opened wide, as +he revealed the magnitude of the proposition.</p> + +<p>"Can't do it, Slim. It's too big. Guess I'll have to +stick to books." The other took on a disappointed +expression.</p> + +<p>"It's the chance of a life time," he said, with plain +regret, and continued to look the part. "I thought you +were down here to make money, and when I go out and +find something that's an Eldorado, I cannot enlist you. +You are making a serious mistake, and will regret it +some day."</p> + +<p>That was all for that day, but the next day he was +mysterious. He didn't, however, "put" Wyeth next to +this, but, on the quiet, he met others on the street below, +where, at some length, they discussed a restaurant and +hotel business, to be duly incorporated, and an office and +a management to be appointed. Mrs. Lautier made +known to Wyeth the inner secrets of this the next day.</p> + +<p>"I'm certainly disappointed in you, Mr. Wyeth," said +Slim, one day soon after, very grievously.</p> + +<p>"How's that, Professor?" inquired the other, with +assumed concern.</p> + +<p>"You never seem to consider seriously, the many good +propositions I have discovered, and have offered to you +for investment."</p> + +<p>"Do you yourself?"</p> + +<p>"I could make a bunch of money if you would come +in," he repeated artfully, but ignored the direct question.</p> + +<p>The next day, he was more artful than ever. He was,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +indeed, full of another proposition. He smiled as he told +his friend.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to marry that woman out there," he said, +low and confidentially.</p> + +<p>"On Fourteenth?" the other echoed cheerfully, returning +a sincere smile. "That's where you're a man. +That'll sure be dandy. When?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not yet a-while, not until I get a divorce from +the last one."</p> + +<p>"Oh—then. M-m. So you've been married already, +rather, you are."</p> + +<p>"I have never told you much of my past life, except +from a business point, have I?" He smiled naively, and, +taking a chair, he became seated, placed his feet in the +window, and proceeded to narrate a part of his past.</p> + +<p>"I've been married twice," he began.</p> + +<p>"Oh, twice...."</p> + +<p>"Yes. My first wife died. We lived on a farm in +South Carolina, and were as happy a couple as you ever +knew. I owned a two-horse farm, and raised plenty of +cotton and corn and some hogs, while my wife raised +plenty of chickens and garden truck. We had two boys, +whom I kept in school in town during the winter. And +then, after my crops were laid by, my wife looked after +the place, while I went out and sold song books and +pictures, and preached."</p> + +<p>"Then you're a preacher, too," said Wyeth, when he +paused a moment. "I didn't think you were a preacher," +he continued, looking him over.</p> + +<p>"Well, not altogether. I preach sometimes, but not +much since I married the last woman."</p> + +<p>"How's that?"</p> + +<p>"To tell you the truth, that woman almost made me +lose my religion, she was such a devil."</p> + +<p>Wyeth was silent, but attentive. Slim went on.</p> + +<p>"Didn't you meet my brother? He was here not long +ago. I had him up here in the office. You might have +seen him about the building here. You could not have +mistaken him for any one else, if you had seen him."</p> + +<p>"Does he look like you?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Lord, no!" Slim exclaimed, with a laugh. "Not at +all. And you would not have believed it; but ten years +ago he was as spare as I am. Then he went to preaching, +and since then he has become the fattest thing you ever +saw."</p> + +<p>Wyeth smiled naively. Coleman proceeded with his +interrupted narrative.</p> + +<p>"Well, getting back to that <i>woman</i>; I married her +four months after my first wife died, and took her to +live in the same house. We got along less than three +weeks in peace. Then things began to warm up. She +was a devil, if there ever was one on top of the earth, +but I persisted faithfully." His appearance was now very +pious. "The first big row we had was on Sunday. It +was in the morning, and I, with my Bible under my arm, +was starting to church. She didn't want to go that day, +and had tried to keep me from going; but I always led +the prayer, and preached during the pastor's absence, +so, as I was saying, I was starting for church. When +I passed a room in which she had enclosed herself to +pout, she suddenly opened it, and hit me in the side with +a big rock. If it had not struck the Bible, I think I +would have been hurt seriously; but it hit the book and +my arm, and rolled upon the floor.</p> + +<p>"Well, after that, the devil was to pay. She kept me +in Hell and hot water, and we got along like a cat and +a dog. Each day, from sunrise until long after it had set, +I asked Jesus whether I could hold out to the end. I had +declared to his Holy Name, that I had taken that woman +to live with for better or for worse; but surely I was +getting the worst of it. And then, at last, it came to +the point when it was beyond human endurance. She +took to shooting at me for the fun of it."</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" exclaimed Wyeth. "You don't mean +to say that she shot at you!"</p> + +<p>"No," he replied calmly, "she didn't <i>shoot</i> at me; +she <i>shot</i> at me, and not once, but any old time she felt +like it, which was more than once, by many, many +times," he soliloquized, grimly.</p> + +<p>"Good night!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes; she shot at me as though it were no more than +throwing hot water on a bunch of rats."</p> + +<p>"Save me Jesus!"</p> + +<p>"Then one day I shot at her."</p> + +<p>"Hush!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I shot at her and tried to hit, but I am thankful +the good Lord was with us both against ourselves, I +missed. I think I was too much excited."</p> + +<p>"Deliver me!"</p> + +<p>"It was a few days after we had had a big row for +sure, and she had declared she would kill me."</p> + +<p>Wyeth looked helpless. Slim smiled grimly, and +went on:</p> + +<p>"It was about my first wife. I had an enlarged picture +of her that hung on the wall, and this devil had been +eyeing it with apparent disfavor. That day, she stood +directly under it, looking up at it with a double ax concealed +in her skirt. I knew she had the ax, and watched +her. I swore to myself that the day of Pentecost had +come. If she touched my dead wife's picture, I would +kill her on the spot."</p> + +<p>"Be merciful, Coleman!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," he said, in a terrible voice. "I would +have done so too, you can bet your last dollar on that.</p> + +<p>"She kept looking up at it, and muttering in a low +tone. I heard her say: 'I've a notion to tear you to +pieces!' I decided that I would tell her, and in so doing +give her one chance, a last chance to continue life in +this world. So I said: 'Woman, woman, if you touch +that picture, get ready to die, for, just as sure as I'm a +nigga, I'm going to put your lights out!' Those were +terrible days, terrible days," he sighed wearily, and for +the first time since Wyeth had known him, he felt a +pang of sorrow for him. He was serious. Presently he +resumed:</p> + +<p>"She went out without a word—she was always +dangerous when she said nothing—and returned presently, +with a brand new, great big pistol, and, without a word +she began shooting. She and I then had it. She with +the gun and me a-running, while she pulled the trigger, +and run me all over that farm.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + +<p>"After this, I armed myself and got ready. I took the +children to my mother, sold off the stock and everything +else but the furniture. I asked the Lord to spare my +life, and not let one of those bullets from that gun she +always carried, push daylight through me, and I would +try to fulfill my promise, God's will be done. I offered +her half if she wanted to quit, but she didn't. No, after +she had shot at me and scared me out of my wits, she +was ready for me to take her in my arms.</p> + +<p>"For awhile, things became a little better, but suddenly +she went off half-cock, and pulled the trigger of that big +gun on me again. Then she got her surprise. I had a +gun too. She had a Smith and Wesson, and I had a left-hand +Wheeler. 'Ki-doi! Ki-doi!' my old gun barked, +and the magazine would whirl around cleverly, automatically. +She stood frozen to the spot for a minute, +then, taking fright, she dropped hers, and flew with me +right after her, shooting that old cannon at every leap. +Across the country we went. I loaded and emptied it a +half dozen times, and shot away twenty-five shells. I +shot at everything in sight!</p> + +<p>"After that, I finished selling out and went to Arkansas, +where I was getting along all right, until I was fool +enough to let her come to me. Again we got along very +well for a time, but she got to cocking her pistol where +and when I could hear it, so I set out again. Just lately +she came to Brookville, and went to raising cain, trying +to force me to take care of her. So, as you see, she made +me quit there, and thus you see me."</p> + +<p>For a long time, both were silent. The noise outside +came to their ears, clearly and distinctly, while the +ticking of the clock seemed louder than ever before. +Presently, Sidney, to relieve his own emotions, arose +from his chair and went outside.</p> + +<p>Slim spoke of marrying the woman on Fourteenth +street, every day for the next week. One morning he +came in, his face beaming all over with smiles, and +pleasant anticipation was plainly evident.</p> + +<p>"Well," he began, "we talked it over last night, and +she thinks it will be all right. So I want you to write a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +letter to my brother who owes me some money, and tell +him I must have it, since I am engaged to be married, +and must have it to use in paying for my divorce."</p> + +<p>Wyeth did so.</p> + +<p>"That's fine," he cried gratefully, when it was handed +to him. "You certainly can say a whole lot in a few +words."</p> + +<p>"When I get married to this woman, I think I will +have a mate like my first one," said Coleman. Wyeth +tendered his sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, as one put to a task he would like to +avoid, "I must get around, and see a lawyer about a +divorce." He was thoughtful for a moment, and then +resumed: "Wonder what they charge for divorces in +this town?"</p> + +<p>"Depends upon the attorney and the case," said +Wyeth. "I think twenty-five dollars is the usual fee, or +amount of cost." Slim hesitated thoughtfully, and then +said:</p> + +<p>"I'll go down here and see this nigga lawyer. He +ought to be willing to get one cheaper than a white +lawyer. Don't you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly."</p> + +<p>He went out. About a half hour later he returned, +looking downcast and sullen. He was silent for some +minutes, and then said, as if addressing himself: "That +nigga's crazy."</p> + +<p>"Who's crazy?" Sidney inquired, looking up.</p> + +<p>"That nigga lawyer."</p> + +<p>"How do you figure that out?"</p> + +<p>"I went in there, and spoke to him in regard to the +divorce, and what do you think he wants for getting +me one?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't the faintest idea."</p> + +<p>"Fifty dollars! What do you think of that for highway +robbery?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps your case is a bit more complicated than +the average, and, therefore, justifies a larger fee," Wyeth +suggested.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Aw, that what he said, too, but he's a blood sucker. +He can't gouge me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well," said Wyeth in an off-hand manner, "you +won't quibble on a matter of twenty-five dollars additional, +when you are getting a good wife. Consider +that as a treasure."</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't care. If she's willing to pay half, I'll +give the sucker fifty." Wyeth bestowed a terrible look +upon him, whereupon Slim withered:</p> + +<p>"Well, she'd be getting as much as I. So what's the +difference?" he tried to argue. Wyeth continued to +glare at him.</p> + +<p>"The idea!" he declared presently, with undisguised +contempt. "To wish a woman to pay for your release +from another! I'm too shocked to say how ashamed I +am of you!"</p> + +<p>Slim laughed sheepishly.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-five dollars for a pair of legs like you! If I +were a woman, I wouldn't give twenty-five cents for you +as you sit there now," Wyeth added, with subdued mirth.</p> + +<p>The next day, his atmosphere had changed perceptibly. +He was in an ugly humor. Presently he gave words to +its cause.</p> + +<p>"That nigga woman's fooling me, and I know it."</p> + +<p>"What's the stew today?"</p> + +<p>"She's got another nigga a-hangin' around her. I've +been suspicioning it for some time."</p> + +<p>"You're the limit."</p> + +<p>"I gave her a ballin' out last night about it too."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lautier came in at this moment, and that was the +end of it for awhile.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN" id="CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN"></a>CHAPTER SEVENTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>I'll Never be Anything But a Vagabond</i>"</p> + + +<p>Sidney Wyeth had about filled Attalia with <i>The +Tempest</i> by this time, and had anticipated going to +another city almost as large, about one hundred seventy +miles west. He made known the fact to Slim, and suggested +that he might leave him in charge of the office, if +he did so. As a precaution, or rather, to get some idea +of his ability to dictate letters, he had him compose a +few. When the typist handed them to him to be read, +and he had done so, he decided to allow him to continue +his canvass, and to hire some one more proficient.</p> + +<p>"Say," he cried the next day. "I've been thinking it +over, and maybe I'll be going along with you."</p> + +<p>"That so? Well, I do not see any reason in particular +why you should not go."</p> + +<p>"There's only one reason," he said thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Mrs. King."</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes; that's so. When's the wedding going to +be?"</p> + +<p>He glared at Wyeth a second, and then exclaimed +doggedly: "I'm not going to marry. I wouldn't marry +the best woman in the world."</p> + +<p>"From what you have told me, it seems that you <i>did</i> +marry the worst," laughed the other.</p> + +<p>"I'll stay single henceforth, and be safe," he growled, +and busied himself through some papers.</p> + +<p>"Stay single, eh! And let the nice lady go without a +husband. It's incredible that you can be so regardless!"</p> + +<p>"I do not care to discuss marrying today," he muttered. +"I've something better. It's a business proposition."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, I see. What is it this time? Going to buy the +First National Bank or the Southern Railway?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, you needn't try to kid me. Besides I have not +asked you to come in, though if you did, you could pick +up some big, quick money, if you were of a mind to be +serious."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, if it doesn't take more than a million, I +might be brought to consider it," Wyeth smiled, with +assumed seriousness.</p> + +<p>"I can see you laffing in your sleeve, so I don't tell +you anything, you see!" He ended it angrily, and left +the office.</p> + +<p>It was too good though to keep to himself, so he told +Mrs. Lautier, who in turn told it to Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Coleman had me write to Ames today, in regard +to some song books, which he says he used to sell lots of," +she said, when it was convenient.</p> + +<p>Wyeth grunted.</p> + +<p>"He is very much provoked at the way you treat him. +He says, if you would go in with him, you and he could +both make lots of money; but that you only laugh in +your sleeve at everything he proposes," she went on, +replete with gossip.</p> + +<p>"He proposes many things," said Wyeth.</p> + +<p>She giggled.</p> + +<p>"He's going out to Liberty Street Baptist Church to +sing and sell them Sunday, providing he gets them in +time." She typed a few letters, and then said:</p> + +<p>"He says he would like to go to Effingham with you +and sell books, but that you want too much for it. That +the book is too high, and you want to make too much. +He says the book ought to sell for a dollar, and he should +be paid seventy-five cents for selling it."</p> + +<p>"He wouldn't make a living selling it then," retorted +Wyeth, somewhat impatiently. Then he thought of Mrs. +King, who fed him most of the time.</p> + +<p>The following Monday, Wyeth thought he had fallen +heir to a fortune. He passed him in the hallway, with +head high, and as serious as zero.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lautier imparted the reason for it, when Sidney +had taken out the letters.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mr. Coleman had a great day yesterday, so he informed +me," she smiled. "He said you should have +been out to Liberty Street Baptist Church, and heard +him sing and sell song books afterwards. He said you +were not a Christian, however, which made it bad."</p> + +<p>"How many song books did he sell, and what did he +receive a copy for them?"</p> + +<p>"I think six, and he received fifteen cents apiece," +she replied. He entered at this moment, his face wreathed +in triumphant smiles.</p> + +<p>"Well, my doubting friend, if you would have taken +the trouble to come out to Liberty Street Baptist Church +yesterday, I think you would have been convinced that +I am something of a salesman after all."</p> + +<p>"I've just been told that you 'mopped' up," said +Wyeth, heartily. Slim swelled perceptibly. He seated +himself, crossed his legs, and resumed:</p> + +<p>"When I used to live in South Carolina, I was considered +one of the best salesman in the country."</p> + +<p>"You must have been a great man in South Carolina," +said Wyeth. Slim observed him a moment sharply. +Presently he went on:</p> + +<p>"I would go to the camp meetings and festivals, sing +a few songs, get the people warmed up with a good +sermon, and then sell hundreds of song books in the end."</p> + +<p>"Wonderful!" from Sidney.</p> + +<p>"I am going to the HNRTYU convention at Timberdale +Thursday, and I thought you'd like to go along," +he said, artfully.</p> + +<p>"Couldn't very well do it, unless you got them to hold +the convention over until next week."</p> + +<p>"You <i>will</i> not take me seriously, regardless of my +success," he complained. "Now yesterday I sold a pile +of song books, and today I am sending the man his share +of the money. I could do you some good with the book +you are general agent for, if you would increase my +commission to seventy-five cents a copy, and lower the +price to a dollar."</p> + +<p>"If you wrote the publishers, they might give you the +books free of charge, providing you agreed to pay the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +freight on arrival, and not let the railroad company come +back on them later for it," soliloquized Sidney.</p> + +<p>He went to Timberdale the next day, and the office +saw no more of him for a week.</p> + +<p>"When will Mr. Coleman return?" Mrs. Lautier would +inquire every day. "I certainly do miss him."</p> + +<p>"He's our mascot, our jest. I miss him also," said +Sidney, and they both spoke of him at some length.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Lautier was also a sociable person about the +office, Sidney was coming to appreciate more each day. +She was from New Orleans, and a creole. She had personality, +and a way that won all who were near her. +She was slender and very dark, and, although only +thirty-nine, was almost white-haired, which contrasted +beautifully with her dark skin. Her eyes were small and +bead-like, while she was affectionate by nature. Her +make-up was in keeping with the position she held as +matron at one of the local Negro colleges. When she +spoke, her voice struck the ear musically. She was a +widow.</p> + +<p>"Why have you never remarried, Mrs. Lautier?" +Wyeth ventured, one day. She colored unseen for a +moment, before she answered:</p> + +<p>"Perhaps there's a reason."</p> + +<p>"What reason? You are charming—very charming, +I think," said he earnestly, although he smiled.</p> + +<p>She hid her face. For a woman of her age, she was +most extraordinary. "I have been told that creole +people have a most frightful temper," pursued Wyeth, +enjoying her manner. "Is that quite true?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," She admitted, surveying him now.</p> + +<p>"And do you happen to be endowed with such an +asset, also?"</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't be a creole if I were not," she advised, +still smiling.</p> + +<p>"That's too bad," said he, a trifle sadly. "You seem +too kind and sweet of manner, to be liable to those +angry, wild fits they tell me they have."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps you will see New Orleans while you are in +the south, and the creoles; and then, you can be better +prepared to understand them in the future," she said.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Perhaps I will," he said, after some thinking. "Yes, +perhaps I will. I had not thought of it before."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Mr. Coleman will be back tomorrow," cried Mrs. +Lautier, entering the office a day or so later. "I received +a postal from him announcing the fact, so we will not be +so lonesome now."</p> + +<p>"I am anxious to see what he did in Timberdale. I +guess he succeeded in turning it upside down, and covering +the whole town with song books."</p> + +<p>The next morning, early, he was back. He entered the +office and sat around in silence, seeming to be in an +introspective mood. Wyeth waited for what he knew +would eventually come. It did not as early as it usually +did, in fact, he sighed wearily and looked so peculiar, +until Wyeth, to break the impatience he was laboring +under, presently turned his gaze upon him, and said: +"Well, I see you are back...." The other sat up and +looked about him suddenly, as though awakened from a +trance.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you have more money now than you can +conveniently use for a while," Wyeth tested. "Made a +bunch in Timberdale?"</p> + +<p>"Like Hell!" spat the other grumblingly. "Lucky to +be back here alive."</p> + +<p>"M-m! What did you run up against? A freight +train, or the madam?"</p> + +<p>"I left the day she arrived," he said in a heavy tone, +then added, after a pause: "They've been lynching and +driving nigga's out of that town this week, so the convention +was a fizzle."</p> + +<p>"I suppose you sold out before they got after you? +How many song books did you sell?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you the white people was raising Hell, +and a-killing and burning Negroes like barbecue out +there!" he exclaimed impatiently. "I never sold any +song books, but I sold one copy of <i>The Tempest</i>."</p> + +<p>"How many song books of the amount you received +have you still on hand?"</p> + +<p>"All but six."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I thought you had sold them all but a dozen when +you left for Timberdale."</p> + +<p>"Aw, that old nigga that I left them with, and who +claimed he could sell them at his church and more, +slipped them back into my room while I was away. He +didn't sell any."</p> + +<p>"You don't seem to be getting back into your old-time +selling form very rapidly," suggested Wyeth. +Ignoring him, Slim said suddenly:</p> + +<p>"When you all going to Effin'ham?"</p> + +<p>"Next week."</p> + +<p>"I don't know whether I'll get to go with you or not. +Mrs. King thinks I'd better stay here this summer. +What do you think about it?"</p> + +<p>"I agree with her."</p> + +<p>Just then Mrs. Lautier came in, and, greeting Coleman +very cordially, Wyeth left them and went out on business.</p> + +<p>He happened to have a delivery on Fourteenth street, +and when he had filled it, he stood talking with the girl +a moment. "Are you acquainted with Mr. V.R. Coleman?" +she inquired.</p> + +<p>"Sure. He is a "<i>sort</i>" of agent for this book," Sidney +replied.</p> + +<p>"I thought so," said she; "and I was wondering what +kind of an agent he must make, when he spends so much +time in this neighborhood. He goes with a certain party +next door, and he was there all last week. I think he +scarcely went outside."</p> + +<p>"Good morning," said Sidney.</p> + +<p>"Goodbye," said she. "I hope I'll enjoy the book."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The week arrived in which Wyeth was to depart, and +preparations were made to that end. He decided to +leave the office in charge of Mrs. Lautier. Slim came in +the day before he was to leave, looking frightened and +terribly upset. Always given to joking with him, Wyeth +hardly knew how to accept him, as he apparently was +that day. He was trembling in every limb as he cried:</p> + +<p>"That woman! She's after me! Great God! I wish +she would leave me alone, I wish she would leave me +alone! She's followed me all over the country. She's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +like a ghost on my trail! And now she is at this moment +down in the street looking for me again!" Wyeth's +sympathy went out to him, and he cried:</p> + +<p>"Quiet yourself! You'll surely go to pieces trembling +like that. After all, why should you become so excited? +You say you have advised her that you are not going +to live with her again."</p> + +<p>"Aw, but you don't know; you don't understand. +She's got it on me, on me so strong until I dasn't make a +crooked move, or resort to the law. The only chance I +have is to keep out of her sight." He paused a spell +now, and his appearance was that of a man under sentence +of death. Then he said: "She has vowed to kill me, and +I know if she gets a chance she will!"</p> + +<p>"I will go with you fellows to Effin'ham," he said more +calmly. "I've got to get away from where she can see +me, if I hope to live. Every moment I stay where I know +her to be near, will be moments of fear. I don't want to +kill her, even in self-defense. God, no! I don't want +murder on my hands!" He paced the floor at some +length, pausing at intervals to peep into the street, in +evident fright.</p> + +<p>"She was out to Mrs. King's, night before last. Mrs. +King was not in, so she walked up to the front door of +the white people, and rang the bell. When the door was +opened by the man of the house, the expression he wore +got her goat. She made some excuse to the effect that it +was the wrong house, and went her way. Then, yesterday, +or last night rather, she came back. We were eating +supper, and it happened that my seat was so I could look +out the window, and up the alley. I saw her slipping up +this alley, near the side of the board fence, with a big +gun and it cocked. I rushed out the front way and +avoided her; but she is bent upon forcing me either to +live with her and submit to her tyranny, or she'll kill +me, and prevent me from living or being friendly with +any other."</p> + +<p>"You seem certainly up against a bad proposition, +V.R.," said Wyeth, helplessly.</p> + +<p>"If it wasn't for a certain little deal back in South<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +Carolina, I wouldn't be so afraid; but, owing to that, +I dare not do anything but keep out of her way," he +trembled on, woefully. "I'm going to try and slip out +of town unbeknown to her, and go along with you fellows +to Effin'ham. I'll be safe there for a while; but as soon +as she learns I am there, she'll take up the trail and I'll +have to 'beat' it elsewhere."</p> + +<p>"Gee! It must be dreadful to live in the fear that +somebody is thirsting for your blood," said Wyeth, shuddering.</p> + +<p>"I'll never be anything but a vagabond; a rover, +drifting over the face of the earth until death comes," he +cried despairingly.</p> + +<p>He was calmed presently, with the prospect of going +to Effingham. Wyeth went uptown, attending to considerable +business in connection with the office, preparatory +to leaving. When this was completed, he went to a +movie, and returned to the office about six o'clock. He +went to another show that evening, and after that had +closed, strolled about the town until ten-thirty. There +appeared to be a gathering of women for some occasion +at the auditorium, which was breaking up when he +returned. Mrs. King and Coleman were leaving the +building when Wyeth came up. They started up the +street with the crowd. As they reached the corner, there +was a sudden commotion. Wyeth ran up, and was just +in time to see a woman dash after Coleman from around +the corner. He saw her before she got near him, and, +jerking free of his escort, he tore into the street. She +was a dark woman with coarse black hair, and of an +Indian appearance. With a cry she flew after him, as +she cried in a diabolical voice:</p> + +<p>"At last, Vance Coleman, I have found you, and in +another's company. I am forced to stand aside, although +your wife!" Down the street his steps could be heard, +as he tore along in mad haste. She stopped when she +saw that she could not catch him, and, drawing from +some invisible direction, a gun, she levelled it, with +deliberate aim, at the flying figure. The crowd stood +frozen creatures.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p>And then suddenly, a terrible cry rent the still night +air, just as the gun went off; but the cry had disconcerted +her aim, and, with a cry she turned toward the +crowd, but Wyeth had the arm of the hand that held +the revolver, which he twisted and made the weapon fall +to the ground. She was led away presently by an officer, +while still, far down a street, the sound of hurriedly +retreating footsteps came to Wyeth's ears. He listened +until they died away in the night. Wyeth turned, and +disappeared in the direction of his room.</p> + +<p>He never saw Slim again.</p> + +<p class="center small">END OF BOOK ONE</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center big"><a name="BOOK_II" id="BOOK_II"></a>BOOK II.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ONE_2" id="CHAPTER_ONE_2"></a>CHAPTER ONE</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Effingham</i></p> + + +<p>"I'll take that change now," whispered the porter, +nudging Wyeth, as he lay trying to sleep, as the train +roared westward toward Effingham, the iron city, and +greatest industrial southern center.</p> + +<p>Raising up, he reached in his pocket while yet half +asleep, and handed the porter two dollars. "I paid fifty +cents for the ticket to Spruceville, as you know, and the +charge was to be two fifty?" The other nodded, and +pocketing the money, he melted away noiselessly.</p> + +<p>A few hours later, Wyeth raised the shade and peered +out. The train was flying through a valley, that spread +away from either side of the single track, smooth and +unobstructed, except for comfortable farm homes, set +back from the roads. He looked back in the seat behind +him, observed young Hatfield, whom he was bringing +with him, dozing peacefully. Then he looked toward the +front of the car for the first time, and observed another +with whom he had become acquainted in Attalia. He +had never learned his name, in fact, he had never inquired +it; but, since the other possessed such long legs, and was +tall and good-natured into the bargain, he had called him +Legs, which had brought no objection on the part of the +other. And it is by that name we shall follow him in +this story.</p> + +<p>"Hello, there!" he greeted cordially, when their eyes +met. "And where did you get on and call yourself +going?"</p> + +<p>"Hello, Books!" the other returned, as cordially. +He rose from his seat, shook himself as if to start the +blood, jumped about for a moment, rubbed his face, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +then came back to where Wyeth was and sat down. +"Say," he cried, "a little liquah'd go good right now, +wouldn't it? I had some, but like a pig I emptied the +bottle last night. Oh, yes," he cried suddenly, "I'm +going to Chicago. Where are you going?"</p> + +<p>"To Effingham; but I wish I were on the way for old +Chi' along with you," said Wyeth. The other smiled +blandly, stretched his long legs in the isle, then got up, +went to the end of the car and looked around for a cup +out of which to drink; and, of course, not finding any, +he lifted the lid of the cooler, turned it over, and finding +it had a disk, drew it full and drank from it. Replacing +it, he came back and reseated himself. Since we shall +become quite familiar with him, and very shortly, a +description is quite necessary.</p> + +<p>He was tall, over six feet, and a mulatto. His shoulders +were broad, while his chest was thin and flat. His head +was small, and straight up from his back, while he possessed +a pair of small ears that fitted closely and oddly +against his head—so oddly that, when one observed him +at a glance, he reminded one of an elf. He appeared to +be smiling always, although there was no great depth in +the same. His eyes were small, and danced about playfully +in his head, while his hips were arched and broad, +between which was a full stomach which made him +resemble a pickaninny.</p> + +<p>"You see, it's like this," he began confidentially. He +lowered his voice almost to a whisper, and held his mouth +close to Wyeth's ear. "The reason you did not see me +when we left Attalia last night, was because I had the +porter lock me in the lavatory. I didn't come through +the gate at the station, but went out to the yards where +he concealed me. When the train was out of the town, +I came out; but you were reading and didn't look up, +when I came out and took that seat."</p> + +<p>Wyeth observed him now wonderingly. He could not +understand this unconventional manner of boarding a +passenger train. He was not, however, left long in doubt. +In fact, before he could give words to the question his +eyes asked, the other enlightened him:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I's havin' a little game Sunday night, and the bulls +run in on me." It was now all clear to Wyeth. He +recalled the other's occupation. He had become acquainted +with him through "Spoon," and recalled that +he kept a rooming house for questionable purposes. In +addition to this, he sold liquor, and ran a game on Saturday +nights and Sundays—or any time a crowd gathered +with enough money to start.</p> + +<p>"M-m. Did they arrest you?"</p> + +<p>"No; that is what I's goin' t' tell. I got away; but +they got the rest of the bunch, every damn last one of +them, the fools! You see," he explained, warming to +the narrative, "it was not altogether my fault. It was +like this: I had a nigga watching, that is, I had him +hired to watch, but the d——n fool was a whiskey head, +and had t' have a drink eve' ten minutes, claiming, of +course, that it was necessary that he have plenty of +booze t' keep himself awake."</p> + +<p>Wyeth laughed quietly.</p> + +<p>"Well, I was 'head a the game and winning right +along, and didn't give a damn; so I fed him all he could +pour down. The result of this was that he got good and +full by and by, went off t' sleep, and the bulls walked +right in on us without a word of warning.</p> + +<p>"We were shooting craps on the bed, and the game was +going along nicely. I was sitting at the head holding the +lamp, and getting the cuts. At least fifteen dollars was +in the betting, when, on hearing a slight noise to my back +like some one creeping, I looked around—and, man! The +room was full of bulls with dark lanterns, which they at +that moment flashed upon us!</p> + +<p>"I didn't know what to do for a moment. 'Up with +yu' hands, niggers!' they cried. All the shines looked +then into the barrels of a bunch a-guns. 'Don't try no +monkey business there, you big nigger,' the sargent cried, +as he observed me shifting about. All the time, though, +I was edging toward a place I knew none ov'm didn't see. +Suddenly, I drops the lamp, and there is some tall cussin'. +A little pup—I think he was a sup'—put a star on the +back of my head"—he turned and Wyeth saw it. "I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +staggered about now like I was knocked out. They were +all over us now, a-hand cuffin' the nigga's like a lot of +cattle with halters. By this time I see's my way clear t' +make this break. One sucker spots me and cries: 'Look +out! That big nigga!' But they were too late. I had +my hand on the knob of a door that none ov'm have +seen; and, swinging it open quickly, I ducked out. As I +did so, one of the bulls takes a shot at me, but missed. +He was determined to have me, though, if possible, so +he comes after me in a hurry. That's where I am wise +and he wasn't. There is a fence a few feet from the +door, that he didn't see. Out he came after me in a +blind fury, and, 'bing!' He ran full into the fence, and +knocked the wind out of himself. I saw my chance. +I was mad and scared now, too; so I rushed upon him +while he was staggering about and 'bingo!' I landed on +him, and knocked him cold. Then I 'beat' it. I had his +gun and club and 'peeper,' and I flew. Out the back +way I went like a race horse. In the rear, two or three +bulls were a-workin' over this bull that I done knocked +stiff. I entered the alley, and ran until I reached Bell +street. An onry bunch of dogs kept barking away at me +as I hurried along, and kept me scared, because I's +afraid I'd be located by other bulls. I ran down one, a +little pug-nosed bull. He was game and tried to bite. +I reached down and got'm by the head, whirled him over +my shoulder three or four times, and when I turned him +loose, he landed beside a second story window, and fell +to the ground a dead dog, I didn't try to see. I then +began to jump fences. I bet I jumped a dozen fences, +and then got hung on the last one, which held my shirt. +I fell off at last, and liked to have bust open. My face +was bleeding, and my head, while my shirt was soaked. +I looked like the devil. I at last tore off the shirt, and +tried to tie up my head, then went to my brother-in-law's."</p> + +<p>"Gee!" exclaimed Sidney, "but you certainly had +some experience!"</p> + +<p>"Aw, man, I done some runnin', believe me!" he +declared, and looked grim.</p> + +<p>"They had plenty a-liquah—the bootlegs, too—, so's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +soon's I's cleaned up with my head bathed and a clean +shirt, I took a few drinks, and went to bed, feeling all +right.</p> + +<p>"I laid around town hid away, until he could slip me +my clothes and a few dollars. So I happened to know +this porter, and arranged to come over tonight, and here +I am," and he breathed a sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>"How did those they arrested come out, and how come +the cops to be next to your little game?" Wyeth inquired, +casually.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," cried Legs. "I forget to tell you that part +of it. You see, there was a guy in the crowd—or had +been, rather, whose wife didn't want him to gamble. +Now he came down there and lost what little he had, and +went home drunk. His wife, of course, learned that he +had lost his money, and got sore. He was a damned +tramp, and told her the whole story, with tears, perhaps, +and you know a nigga with tears, so she went and put +the cops next.</p> + +<p>"Now 'bout them other shines—the ones who got +arrested—they came before Judge Loyal's the next +morning, and got ten seventy-five each."</p> + +<p>"I thought it was fifteen seventy-five for gaming."</p> + +<p>"They were let off lighter, owing to the fact that I was +not brought. If they'd a caught me, it would have been +fifteen seventy-five for them, and about a hundred for me."</p> + +<p>Wyeth laughed amusedly.</p> + +<p>"You don't gamble or drink liquah, either, do you?" +he asked, and then answered his own question. "No, I +know you don't. You're lucky for using such common +sense. It doesn't pay, even if four nigga's out-a five do. +Yeh," he went on wearily, "only the straight and narrow +path leads to happiness in the long run," and with that +he turned on his side, and went to sleep.</p> + +<p>"Say," he cried suddenly, raising up, "what did you +pay?" Then looked around quickly to see if he had been +overheard.</p> + +<p>"Two and a half," the other replied. "How much +did you?"</p> + +<p>Legs held up two fingers. "I told'm 't'was all I had, +and I didn't have but a precious little more."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Are you acquainted with any one in Chicago?" +Wyeth inquired.</p> + +<p>"Aw, yeh, a plenty; but I am not going on through +now. I'm going to stop in Effingham for a while, it +depends."</p> + +<p>"Hello, Red," cried young Hatfield, coming up now, +rubbing his half closed eyes. "I see you got out all +right."</p> + +<p>"Say, man!" cried Legs. "Didn't I get out of that +thing in luck?"</p> + +<p>"Bet your life on that you did," commented Hatfield. +"If they'd have gotten you, the devil would have been +to pay." He laughed a low, hard laugh, and then added: +"Those church people have had their eyes on your +place for some time, and the chances are if you had +been caught, they'd have appeared against you."</p> + +<p>"They certainly put old Jack Bell out of business +proper," Legs commented, thoughtfully. "That old +nigga conducted such a rotten dump and tiger, though; +and all those dirty little girls around on top of it, I don't +wonder."</p> + +<p>"Wonder whether he had any money left when they +got through with him?" Hatfield inquired.</p> + +<p>"Hard to tell," said Legs. "They fined him out of +hundreds, that I <i>do</i> know."</p> + +<p>By this time, the train was entering the city. From +the car could be seen an incomplete mass of varied buildings, +little shacks that faced alleys, and at the front of +which played dozens of little unbleached pickaninnies. +Wyeth viewed the city as the train crept slowly along, +and his impression did not agree with what he had +gathered from reading of it. It was not, he felt positive, +the city Attalia was, although claiming almost an equal +number of people.</p> + +<p>"You see those two brick cupola's extending into the +air?" he heard Hatfield saying. "That's a Negro Baptist +church." He was mistaken, however, for the same +proved to be the large, new station, the pride of the city.</p> + +<p>Soon the train rolled into this, and a few minutes +later, they stood in the waiting room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's going to cost like the dickens to get all these +grips of your hauled," said Hatfield, with a frown.</p> + +<p>"Only had to pay thirty-five cents to get them to the +depot in Attalia." He walked to the lower end of the +platform, and began a series of inquiries relative to the +hauling of the same. He soon came upon an express +man, who agreed to unload them for fifty cents, at where-ever +they found a room.</p> + +<p>The three walked down a level street, paved with +brick. On either side a lot of houses appeared behind a +row of trees, dense with foliage. It was a calm, soft +morning, and the sun, red and glorious, was just peeping +out of the east. The street they followed led from the +depot into the business section. Perhaps eight blocks +ahead of them, several buildings of extraordinary height, +stood outlined far above those about them. Wyeth +counted the windows of two, and found them to total +sixteen.</p> + +<p>"There are two or three buildings here higher than +any in Attalia," said Hatfield, following his gaze. "I +think the ones you have been noticing, are twenty-five +stories high."</p> + +<p>The other whistled. "That's going some!"</p> + +<p>Soon they were well into the business section. "Let's +go by and look at that hotel they have just completed +and opened," suggested Legs; for, just then, a little to +the right, the outline of that beautiful structure arose. +It was a grand affair, to say the least, and stood as a +monument to the enterprise of the populace. It was +claimed, by them, to be the swellest in the south.</p> + +<p>"I think I can get on there after a bit," said Legs. +"I'm a head waiter by trade, but I haven't done any +hotel work for some little time now."</p> + +<p>"I hear they brought all the waiters from the north," +said Hatfield.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Legs, "I'll <i>be</i> from the north when the +time comes, so I can make a fit if there is an opening."</p> + +<p>"You'll pass, Red," laughed Hatfield, as they walked +onward now in a different direction.</p> + +<p>As Wyeth saw Effingham, he observed that it lay very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +differently from Attalia. It had been built up recently, +so to speak, and had, therefore, broad, spacious streets, +unusually so, he thought, as he now found himself in the +heart of the business district. Perhaps they may have +seemed wider, because he had become accustomed to the +narrow highways of Attalia. In addition to the wide +streets, the sidewalks stretched back from the buildings +they fronted, from twelve to twenty feet, giving +pedestrians plenty of room to walk unconcernedly along. +As they continued on their way, he further observed that +the business section covered an unusually large area, and +it was hard to tell which might be called the main street. +As the street cars clanged by him, he noticed another +feature, also. The position occupied by the Negro passengers. +They entered and left the car from the front +instead of from the rear, as was the custom in Attalia.</p> + +<p>"Negroes do lots of business in this town," said Hatfield, +as they came abreast of a large, new building, that +reached five stories into the air. "This, now," said he, +pausing and surveying the structure, "is the Dime +Savings Bank building." Wyeth, having read much +about the bank, observed the building carefully. To one +side, through the street door, there was no entry, or, +rather, the small entry was to one side of the building, +and not in the middle, and one elevator was in operation. +Straight back from where they stood, the open doors of +the bank (which the janitor was now sweeping) revealed +the inside of the institution.</p> + +<p>A few hours later, their wanderings brought them +back again before the bank, which they entered. It +proved to be a busy place, and at that hour, was filled +with black people, depositing and withdrawing money, +and attending to other business in connection therewith. +He observed, in the first glance, that the furnishing was +elegant. Behind the first desk, enclosed by an oak office +fence, sat a black man, the cashier he thought, since the +insignia was plated conspicuously before him. And still +to the left of him, behind a grating with the insignia of +<i>Collections</i> before it, was another man, and he was blacker +still. And then, in the next cage, over which was labeled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +boldly, <i>Receiving Teller</i>, worked still another black man. +He was younger, and he worked rapidly, counting the +money that was continually being thrust to him. There +was another cage to the right of him, and this was marked +<i>Paying</i>. Behind this worked another black man, young +and intelligent, and seeming perfectly efficient, as had the +others. In the rear, working over books, he saw the first +mulatto. Another, brown-skinned this time, worked near +him, and these made up the active members of the bank. +No blue veins held sway here. It was truly a black +man's bank. It was, as he had long since learned, the +largest in the country conducted by black people, and +the footing exceeded a half million by almost a hundred +thousand dollars.</p> + +<p>Young Hatfield, who was a student in one of the +colleges of Attalia, had been to the city before, was well +acquainted, and pointed out the many places of interest, +and, in particular, those conducted by black people.</p> + +<p>"The president of this bank, Dr. Jerauld," he explained, +"is in failing health, and is substituted by the +vice, Dr. Dearford."</p> + +<p>"I see," acknowledged the other. "So the president, +then, is a physician."</p> + +<p>"No," corrected the other, "a minister."</p> + +<p>Wyeth recalled now, that "Reverend" or "Elder" was +almost a thing of the past among Negro preachers. +They were all called, and called themselves "doctors." +But he did not then realize to what extent this title was +usurped. Beyond the instant of medicine and dentistry, +he had noted that "doctor" was an honorary term, conferred +upon men who had done something notable in the +evolution of mankind; but he was soon to learn that the +title had become a fetish with his people, sought after +and preempted by any and everyone without even the +remotest right to claim it.</p> + +<p>"Everything that has ever been started down south +has been done by the preachers. A Negro preacher down +here, in the past in particular, has headed everything. +Of course, that would be natural, granting that almost +every man with ambition to be before the public has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +been a preacher," Hatfield explained. "Now, for example, +the largest insurance company in Attalia—that is, +with offices there and conducted by our people—has for +its president, a preacher located in this town."</p> + +<p>"I've heard of him. His name is—"</p> + +<p>"Dr. Walden," he explained. "He's the pastor of a +big church on the other side of town. Dr. Jerauld, +before he retired, was pastor of the Sixth Avenue church."</p> + +<p>"And what denomination do these preacher business +men represent?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Baptist, of course. As I said, they are at the +head of everything, including," and he smiled humorously, +"a great many wives of other men." They both +laughed, and Legs, who was almost forgotten, joined in.</p> + +<p>By this time, they were wandering aimlessly down +a street that finally came to an end, and ran abruptly +into a brick wall. Changing their course into another +street, they continued their indefinite pilgrimage. Presently, +they paused before one or two neat looking houses, +and inquired regarding rooms. Both were full. A convention +of preachers was still in session, which explained +the state of circumstances. So, on again they went, +until they paused at a corner. A middle-aged woman +sat on the front porch of a house that rose to two stories, +and was decorated with two vine-laden porches. The +house appeared to contain possibly seven or eight rooms.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Mis'!" exclaimed Legs, in greeting so familiar +that Wyeth felt he surely must know her.</p> + +<p>"How-do," she answered as familiarly and smiling.</p> + +<p>"Three tramps we are from Attalia, and without a +place to roost. Do you happen to have a spare pole or +two?"</p> + +<p>"Sho has. Come upon the po'ch and be seated," she +invited.</p> + +<p>"A-hem. That's when you said something," smiled +Legs, "eh, Mis'?" She joined in the humor.</p> + +<p>"Well, boys," said Legs, when they were comfortably +seated, "this looks good to me. Supposing we just +hang up here, and send for our stuff?"</p> + +<p>It was agreeable to the other two, and they were,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +therefore, duly installed, three in a room. Legs, being +the longest, was given a bed to himself, while Hatfield +and Wyeth agreed to share another together. It was +fortunate for both that it was arranged thus, since Legs +proved to be a dreadful night man, and, from his apparently +restless way of tossing, required a halter.</p> + +<p>"Any saloons around here, Mis'?" he inquired shortly, +when she reappeared on the porch a few minutes later.</p> + +<p>"Sho is!" she exclaimed. "Yeh, most sho. Go right +down this street, turn the corner, and across the street +near the other corner, is what you want," she laughed, +taking them all for granted. Wyeth and Hatfield followed +Legs to the inevitable fountain he now sought +energetically.</p> + +<p>"Got t' have a little liquah before I c'n feel like myself," +he grinned, as they sauntered along.</p> + +<p>"Hello!" called some one from the rear. Turning, +they observed a medium sized Negro walking rapidly in +their direction, and beckoning to them. They halted, +and presently he stood before them, introducing himself.</p> + +<p>"Pardon me, gentlemen," he began very properly; +"but the Mis' back there," pointing in the direction of +the house they had just left, "was telling me that you +have just taken a room with her, and, since I am the +man of the house, I wish to offer my name and make +you welcome."</p> + +<p>He was very cordial. His name was Moore, John +Moore, he said, and to describe him, our pen fails to a +degree. He had, however, an odd looking face. His +cheek bones were high, slightly Indian-like, while his +face was broad. His nose was not flat, nor was it high +or medium, it was—just a nose, that's all. He held his +head forward aggressively, his eyes were twinkling, and +possessed a cordiality that, to a careful observer, was +distrustful. And still, his appearance in general, was that +of a Negro who might be expected to bluff, but not to +fight; to steal when the opportunity was ripe, with enough +cunningness to keep from being caught. Otherwise, he +was apparently harmless.</p> + +<p>They acknowledged his welcome, and, joining them, +they all went toward the place of happiness by proxy.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm buyin' this," said Moore, as they lined the bar, +four abreast.</p> + +<p>"Let me do the buying this time," insisted Legs, who +proved himself a sport, and a good mixer.</p> + +<p>"I've paid him already," said Moore, as if in dismissal, +shoving at the same time, a half dollar across +the bar.</p> + +<p>"Whiskey," nodded Legs familiarly, to the bartender.</p> + +<p>"Little liquah, too," from Moore.</p> + +<p>"Beer."</p> + +<p>"Beer."</p> + +<p>"Drink whiskey!" insisted Legs and Moore, of the +other two. "Something that has the kick."</p> + +<p>"These are my sons," said Legs, teasingly.</p> + +<p>"Hold on heh', George," argued Moore with the bartender, +"you know how I take mine. A half-a-pint 'n' +two glasses." The bartender obeyed.</p> + +<p>Here Wyeth observed, was diplomacy, albeit economy. +Moore paid twenty-five cents for the half pint, wherein +he and Legs had six sociable drinks, three a-piece; +whereas, the same would have totalled sixty cents otherwise.</p> + +<p>"How's this town for gettin' hold a-something?" +inquired Legs of Moore, when John Barleycorn was +doing his duty.</p> + +<p>"Best town in the south to get it, if you're wise," +Moore winked.</p> + +<p>Legs responded with a big wink. "I'm the man that +put 'w' in whiskey," he smiled. "I'n get mine when +it's in the gettin'."</p> + +<p>"What's your line?" from Moore, pouring more +whiskey.</p> + +<p>"Anything from heavin' coal to sellin' liquah and +operatin' a crap game, and a little 'skin' when the +crowd's right."</p> + +<p>"I see," said the other thoughtfully, then added: +"And your friends?"</p> + +<p>"This lad here is going to school to learn how to get +'his without workin'; while the other boy," pointing to +Wyeth, "is already doin' it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, men," began Moore, as he opened a fresh half +pint that Legs paid for, "as I said, 'f you're <i>wise</i>, Effingham +is the best town in the country for pickin's. It is, +as you should know, the greatest industrial center in the +south."</p> + +<p>"So I have understood," interposed Wyeth, waiving +the bartender's invitation aside; "I am anxious to learn +something, everything about the town, and the colored +people."</p> + +<p>"Are they employed in considerable numbers at the +mines, steel mills and furnaces about here, of which the +city possesses so many?"</p> + +<p>"Thousands upon thousands," he was informed.</p> + +<p>"And how are they paid? From a personal standpoint, +I'd be glad to know?" went on Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"All kinds of wages, and at various times. Some +receive as low as a dollar and a quarter, while others +make as high as seven and eight; but the average wage +runs from a dollar fifty, to three dollars."</p> + +<p>"How's the crap games?" from Legs, with the usual +smile.</p> + +<p>"Nigga's will shoot craps, yu' know," grinned Moore. +"I shoot a little myself when the moon's right," he +winked.</p> + +<p>"I want t' find a good game as soon as possible, and +win about a hundred," said Legs, beginning to show the +effects of liquor. Hatfield and Wyeth left them to their +cheerful diversion, which was now, to all appearance, +warming to the superlative.</p> + +<p>The former went toward town, looking for certain +friends. Wyeth went back to the place where he was +going to stay, and retired. They had called up for their +luggage before they went to the saloon. Wyeth was +sleeping peacefully, when he was aroused by an argument +on the porch. He tried to close his ears, but the same +was persistent. It was between the landlady and the +expressman, who had arrived with the stuff.</p> + +<p>"That little trunk is as heavy as lead," he heard that +worthy saying.</p> + +<p>"That has nothing to do with it," from the landlady.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +"They left fifty cents here to pay for it, and you must +have agreed to that amount, or they would have left +more."</p> + +<p>"Seventy-five cents, seventy-five cents. That little +trunk is like something filled with bricks."</p> + +<p>"My trunk," mumbled Wyeth, coming to himself, and +listening to the argument. "And that sucker is trying to +work her. The dirty cur!" he now cried, angry for two +reasons. One for being disturbed when he was sleeping +so peacefully, and another for being worked, or trying +to be. With a bound he was on the floor, and in a jiffy +he was in his trousers and upon the porch.</p> + +<p>"Well, 'f' y' ain' go'n pay it, I'll haf t' take th' stuff +back," the expressman said, as Wyeth came up. The +other did not see him until he mounted the porch. Then +he looked into his eyes which were fighting, and recoiled.</p> + +<p>"What's this you are going to do!" he demanded, +filling the doorway, and bestowing upon the other, a look +that corresponded with his feelings.</p> + +<p>"Well, stuff I brung down heah's mor'n I thought +'t'was, so I'll haf t' have a quarter mo'!"</p> + +<p>"What kind of a proposition did we make with you in +regard to hauling it at the depot awhile ago?"</p> + +<p>"You said yu'd give me a haf a-dollah fo' haulin' it, +but I didn't say I'd do it fo' a haf," he sulked, evasively.</p> + +<p>Wyeth glared at him, but the other refused to meet +his eye. "Then," he began, "when you took hold of it +and loaded it into your wagon, you subsequently agreed +to my offer, and now I want to see you get more."</p> + +<p>"I'll haf t' take the stuff," argued the other, shifting +about, but keeping at a safe distance. Something in the +eye of the other did not offer welcome.</p> + +<p>"Give him a quater more," called Legs, who had returned +in the meantime, and had been trying to catch a little +sleep.</p> + +<p>"I don't intend to pay him one little dime more!" +exclaimed Wyeth stubbornly.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll haf t' see 'n' officer," bluffed the other, and +turning, he started briskly down the street. Wyeth +learned later, he was sure he could not have found one.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +He was not looking for any, but the landlady and Legs +made up the quarter, and calling him back, paid him.</p> + +<p>"Books is stubborn when he thinks he's been worked. +M-m," said Legs, going back to bed. "Yeh, comes +down to a show, believe he'd fight."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWO_2" id="CHAPTER_TWO_2"></a>CHAPTER TWO</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>These Negroes in Effingham Are Nigga's Proper</i>"</p> + + +<p>The next day dawned calm and beautiful, and Sidney +made preparations to begin his canvassing. In one city +in Ohio, and which was also a great industrial center, he +had found much success in selling his book to the multitude +of workers employed there. Therefore, with what +Moore had already told him, he was anxious to get his +work under way.</p> + +<p>The first thing necessary, of course, would be to secure +agents. School had closed recently, and he had intended +coming to the city, to enlist some of the teachers for +that work. Securing a number of names and addresses, +he began calling on them, but without any immediate +success. Late that afternoon, however, a teacher, a +settled woman, gave him the name and address of one +whom she felt, she assured him, would take up the work. +"At least," she said, "she always does something during +vacation. Her name is Miss Palmer," so thither he went.</p> + +<p>She lived not far away, and near the center of a block +in a small two story house, rusty and somewhat ramshackle. +He mounted the steps, which were perhaps +a half dozen, and asked for her. She was out, they informed +him, but was expected to return shortly. Before +they were through telling him, she came. She was a +brown-skinned woman, although in the fading twilight, +she struck him as being a mulatto. Of medium height +and size, she gave a welcome that played about the +corners of her small mouth. Her chin was long and +tapered to a small point, which made her appearance +unusual; her eyes were small, very small, and playful.</p> + +<p>They were very soon in conversation, and he was +pleased to learn, after he had talked with her a few +minutes, that she was a woman with the strength of her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +convictions, although there was something about her he +did not, and was not likely, he felt, to understand for +some time to come, and he didn't.</p> + +<p>Presently he stated the object of his visit, and suggested +that she take up the work during her vacation. +She shook her head dubiously, and said:</p> + +<p>"I don't mind canvassing; but I don't want to sell +books."</p> + +<p>"Why not books?" he inquired, in a tone of surprise, +and then added: "It would seem that, being a teacher, +selling a nice book would be preferable to something +else."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that may be," said she, thoughtfully now, +"but nigga's here don't read. At least they won't buy +and pay for books. Sell them toilet articles or hair +goods, something to straighten their kinks or rub on their +faces, anything guaranteed to make their hair grow soft +and curly, or their black faces brighter."</p> + +<p>He laughed long. She now observed him with something +akin to admiration. "Then the people of your +community—the black people—don't consider feeding +the mind an essential to moral welfare," he suggested +mirthfully.</p> + +<p>"Naw, Lord," she replied flatly. "These Negroes in +Effingham are nigga's proper. They think nothing about +reading and trying to learn something, they only care for +dressing up and having a good time."</p> + +<p>He was silent and resigned for a time. They now sat +together in a swing that hung suspended from the porch. +Directly, when he had said nothing for some time, she +looked again at him, and with something in her demeanor +that was anxious.</p> + +<p>"What book is it?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>He told her.</p> + +<p>"That's a good title, and should take if anything will," +she said, a little more serious now than before. She did +not impress Wyeth as being much of a literary person, as +he now observed her. For a moment, he felt the interest +wane, that he had experienced the moment she came up. +She was speaking.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I sold books one summer, 'Up From Bondage,' by +the greatest Negro the race has ever known, and I had +a time! I never want such another experience! They +told me a thousand lies, and had me trotting after them +all summer," whereupon, she shrugged her shoulders disgustedly.</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "I'm confident there are people, and +plenty, who <i>do</i> care to read, and will likewise buy when +the book is properly presented. So, of course, the duty +of a distributer, will be to find these people, and it is for +this purpose, I am here. I do not, of course, know what +kind of a black population you have; but it is reasonable +to suppose that, if I could and did, personally sell twelve +hundred copies in Attalia in a matter of five months, +I should be able to find a few readers here. Do you not +agree with me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, of course," said she; "but you cannot as yet +appreciate the fact that Effingham has the orneriest +Negroes in the world. I am frank when I say that I do +not have any confidence in them, but wait," she admonished, +"you'll find out."</p> + +<p>They sat together now, and conversed on topics otherwise +than books and literature, which he observed, could +be engaged in with more success. Moreover, as the +minutes wore on, he also came to see that Miss Palmer +was somewhat sentimental. She smiled freely, moved +close at times, and then away, artfully; saw him at +moments out of liquid eyes, and said her words with a +coquetishness that came by careful practice.</p> + +<p>And so, Sidney Wyeth, a man free to practice the arts +of coquetry—if a man may do so—accepted Miss Palmer's +attention, and to that end he soon became a friend.</p> + +<p>When he departed that evening, she had taken the +agency, and had agreed to go with him on the morrow.</p> + +<p>That night it rained, a heavy rain, and when he went +forth the following morning, the streets were heavy with +mud wherever there was no paving—which was, in this +part of town, almost everywhere. Moreover, it showed +signs of raining more. It had been one of the dryest +springs the south had ever seen, and it was now probable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +that the deficiency in rainfall would be eradicated by +an excess in moisture.</p> + +<p>Wyeth, however, was impatient to begin as soon as +possible. He wished to ascertain to what extent intelligence +and regard for higher morals was prevalent in this +town.</p> + +<p>Miss Palmer was not ready when he arrived, and it +was two hours before she was. "Thought since it rained," +she explained, "that you would not, perhaps, go out +today."</p> + +<p>"Won't know the difference this time next year," he +jested, with a cheerful smile, nevertheless, surveying the +threatening elements anxiously.</p> + +<p>"If we go into the quarter districts," she advised, "we +will most likely get our feet wet—muddy."</p> + +<p>"Are there no sidewalks out there?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>They had decided, the evening before, at her suggestion, +to begin in one of the many little towns, inhabited +by Negroes employed in the mines, mills and +furnaces, that made Effingham what it was. These little +towns encircle the city proper, laying, many of them, at +a considerable distance, to be incorporated as part of the +city.</p> + +<p>Some years before—between one census and the next—this +city is recorded to have trebled and over in population. +It had, but in doing so, it gathered all these little +burgs for miles around. Some of them were even beyond +the car lines, which were built to them after the city had +incorporated them, and counted the people as a part of +the population of Effingham. Wyeth perhaps, as well +as the world at large, had not known this. The population, +at this time, was estimated to be one hundred +sixty-six thousand. Of this amount, two-fifths were +Negroes. Only a portion had been born in Effingham; +the rest came in the last few years, in great, ignorant +hordes from the rural parts of the state, and from the +states adjoining. And as Wyeth soon came to know, +they included some of the most depraved and vicious +creatures humanity has known—but of this, our story +will reveal in due time.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>The most extraordinary part of Effingham, was its +staggering number of churches. That is, among the +Negroes. Notwithstanding the fact that the city was +the resort of every escaped convict, and the city where +every freed one headed for, which, of course, naturally +made it the scene of excessive depravity, there was, apparently, +a great amount of pious worship. Wyeth +recalled, as he became better acquainted with the city +and the people, that a year before, in a northern city, +he had one day, gone to the library, where he found the +directories of all cities of any significance. He was +preparing a circular campaign, and, in going through +the various directories, chanced to look through the part +of those of the southern cities that had recorded the +churches. Effingham had, according to an old one, +almost a hundred Negro churches.</p> + +<p>But, having digressed at some length, we will return +now to Miss Palmer and Sidney Wyeth, preparing to +spread intelligence among a people who greatly needed it.</p> + +<p>"Sidewalks!" Miss Palmer exclaimed, in derision, +"Lordy, they hardly have streets in some places!"</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, they were sailing through the +country—although it was counted as part of the city—to +a town, a suburb, nine miles distant, a suburb of mills. +"I used to sell toilet articles out there, on and right after +pay days, and did quite well," said she, as the heavy car +thundered along at a great rate of speed, for an inter-urban. +"I am skeptical in regard to books, though, +because these are 'bad' nigga's, with the exception of a +precious few good ones."</p> + +<p>They were just then passing through a district that was +well kept, and apparently quiet. "We are now in a part +of the town, where a large number of the better class of +our people reside," she said, "and I am going to point +out the homes of some of them."</p> + +<p>"There is where Mr. Judson, paying teller at the Dime +Savings Bank, lives." She pointed to a handsome +bungalow, setting well back from the street, and surrounded +by many young trees, with a well kept lawn +upon three sides. "Now over there is where Paul Widner,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +contractor and builder, has his home." Following the +direction of her finger, he was moved by the sumptuous +and imposing structure that met his gaze. "That is the +finest residence owned and occupied by one of our kind +in the city," she said, with evident pride. "Still, though, +here is Dr. Jackson's, which is almost as fine," and she +pointed to another that was a credit. "He is the financial +secretary of one of the church denominations of the south.</p> + +<p>"See that long house over there?" she pointed to +another. "That is Dr. Wayland's. He runs the drugstore."</p> + +<p>"A preacher?"</p> + +<p>"No; a pharmacist."</p> + +<p>They were now in the wood, a deep forest with great +trees all about, that darkened the inside of the car. The +picked over and slim pines, mingled with large water +oaks, rose gloomily against the heavy clouds that now +rumbled ominously overhead. Before long, large drops +of water began an intermittent patter on the car roof, +while the windows were spat upon occasionally. And +then, of a sudden, the very heavens seem to open, and +the rain fell in torrents. Through it the heavy car +pushed resolutely forward. The line was one recently +completed, and facilitated travel between the city and +the suburb wonderfully. Built of steel, the cars were +long and heavy, with doors that opened near the center, +allowing the colored passengers to enter on one side of +the conductor, who operated the doors, from a convenient +position near the furtherest side of the opening.</p> + +<p>"We will surely get soaked today," grumbled Miss +Palmer, but not lightly, for she trembled on observing +the terrific downpour.</p> + +<p>"How much further is it to this place we are going?" +he inquired. To him, it seemed they had been riding an +hour. "You do not mean to tell me, that all that stretch +of forest and open country before we got to the forest, +is a part of Effingham?"</p> + +<p>"We will soon be there now," she evaded, and then +added: "Effingham includes everything that electric cars +operating in and out of the city reaches," and laughed. +He believed her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span></p> + +<p>At last, the big car came to a stop. They alighted in +the downpour, and rushed to shelter beneath the porch +of a small grocery store, conducted by a kind-faced little +colored woman.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how-do, Mrs. Brown," cried Miss Palmer, when +the latter, upon seeing them, opened the door and bade +them enter. "I'm certainly glad to see you," whereupon +they kissed, and Miss Palmer cheered the dark atmosphere +with many cute words.</p> + +<p>"Permit me, Mrs. Brown, to introduce Mr.——I +forget your name?" "You see, Mr. Wyeth," said Miss +Palmer, with a delightful smile, "I taught out here these +past three years, and Mrs. Brown is one of my many +friends. Yonder is the school," she pointed to an old +frame building, that could barely be outlined through the +storm. "They have transferred me back to the city +again," she turned to Mrs. Brown. "So I regret to say +that I shall not be with you next year."</p> + +<p>Miss Palmer had a way of finishing her sentences with +a show of her fine little teeth; and her chin, at such a +time, reached to a fine point, which at first amused +Sidney. She would bestow upon him a coquettish smile, +when she found his eyes searching her mysteriously.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Wyeth," said she, with her arm linked now within +Mrs. Brown's, "is general agent for a new book by a +Negro author, <i>The Tempest</i>, and for which I have accepted +the local agency—why not," she broke off suddenly, +"show Mrs. Brown the book?"</p> + +<p>"She is clever and suggestive at the same time," +thought Sidney, almost aloud; but he forthwith obeyed +the suggestion with much pleasure, and took Mrs. Brown's +order amid the rainfall, collecting twenty-five cents as a +guarantee of good faith, in addition.</p> + +<p>It had ceased raining as suddenly as it had commenced. +They turned to leave the store, and, as he +was passing Miss Palmer, he bumped against her roughly. +She was looking at his picture on the frontispiece now, +with apparent suspicion. He pretended not to see her or +her suspicion, that had now grown to excitement. She +was yet apparently in some doubt, as she tried to make +connections.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Look here! Look here!" she exclaimed at last, in +subdued excitement. "This picture! This picture! It is +you! You!" She held the book open, and looked at him +in amazement. He waved her aside depreciatively, and +passed outside, while she continued gazing at the picture +in a state of excitement. She followed him, and they +were alone.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you tell me this?" she cried, unable to +stem her tide of excitement. She had lost interest, for +the present, in all else, and pursued: "You, the author +of this book!" She now saw him as another person +entirely. Feeling much put out, he felt something should +be resorted to, to dissipate the spell.</p> + +<p>"I'm not the author," he said, with straight face. +"Where shall we go now?" his demeanor was calm and +imperious.</p> + +<p>"Stop next door—no, that's Mrs. Brown's house," she +said, as she followed him in a meditative mood. "The +next house," he heard her say, as if speaking from far +away. Miss Palmer was now serious, and very thoughtful.</p> + +<p>Disturbed by her discovery, and, in a measure, disconcerted, +Wyeth concentrated himself upon the demonstration +of the book to a creditable degree that morning; +and, one by one, with his voice and look charged with +dynamite, he secured those black people's orders, and the +deposit wherever they had the amount available. Miss +Palmer merely followed him, insisting upon the point of +authorship, until, with a touch of impatience, he admonished +her that their purpose, on that occasion, was to +sell the book, the author, therefore, insofar as they were +concerned, was a matter of secondary consideration.</p> + +<p>"Going to be angry with me so soon?" she pined, +looking into his eyes with a feigned appeal. In spite of +himself, he smiled back disconcertedly.</p> + +<p>"You are the author, though, aren't you?" she asked +softly.</p> + +<p>He ignored the question.</p> + +<p>"We have eleven orders, and have collected a dollar +and seventy-five cents, in exactly an hour and a half,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +she informed him, at the end of that time. "Whether +you <i>did</i> or did <i>not</i> write this book—say what you will, +I'm convinced you did—you <i>do</i> know how to sell it. I +never heard a man talk so fast and so effectively in my +life!"</p> + +<p>"I must leave you now," he said. "I have agreed to +be back in town for the afternoon, and help start my +young friend."</p> + +<p>"Please don't leave me," she whispered artfully, and +smiled in her winning way, then suddenly hurried into +the next house.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Thought you had quit me for good, Books," complained +young Hatfield, when he saw Wyeth, on his +return to the city. "When we goin' out?"</p> + +<p>"As soon as I have fed my face, and the car will take +us to—where, or what is that place you spoke of? Where +the girls work in service?"</p> + +<p>"South Highlands," he replied.</p> + +<p>They followed the street until they came to the main +street, or rather, to one of the main streets, and caught +a car from the front end, that took them to the North +Highlands, and not to the South, as they were accustomed +to go.</p> + +<p>"You'll have to pay carfare back, Books," said Hatfield. +"I have only fifteen cents left."</p> + +<p>"Go right over to where you see that girl, that little +colored girl standing on the steps that lead to the rear, +and tell her the tale of <i>The Tempest</i>, and get her order," +said Wyeth, when at last they had come to the right place.</p> + +<p>"I thought I would go along with you this afternoon," +he said with a frown, but obeyed the command, nevertheless.</p> + +<p>Two hours later, Sidney found him where they had +left each other. "What have you done?" he asked +holding back a frown, because he felt the student had +succumbed to a lack of confidence; but he was cheered +in a degree, when the other replied:</p> + +<p>"I got four, how many did you get?"</p> + +<p>"Eight," and they went on their way rejoicing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THREE_2" id="CHAPTER_THREE_2"></a>CHAPTER THREE</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>"I Have BEEN Married," Said She</i></p> + + +<p>Thirty-five years ago, Effingham was an unsuspected +factor. That was before somebody had demonstrated +that the chain of red hills encircling the then small town, +contained immense deposits of iron ore and coal, and +other mineral matter, that could be converted into +practical purposes.</p> + +<p>Effingham lay, at that time, in the valley, where, as +yet, most of it is found; then, it was regarded as only +an ordinary town, without any expectation of future +greatness. It had, to be exact, thirty-eight thousand, +fourteen years ago, fifteen thousand Negroes, and the +remainder white population, including a few Chinese. +Today, the city boasts of approximately one hundred +seventy thousand.</p> + +<p>Thus the city had developed, regardless of circumstances, +which our story will unfold.</p> + +<p>But Sidney Wyeth, our erstwhile observer and literary +contemporary, had not been long in Effingham, before +he had come to learn that it was not the city Attalia was, +in spite of its great industries, and its million dollar payroll, +which was employed in advertising the iron city.</p> + +<p>To begin with, capital—hard cash—was a very expensive +thing to use toward the development of its +extension. When the city incorporated the many little +towns that make up a large part of its present population, +it began to run in debt; a great deficit was customary +at the end of each year, and now, at the time of our +story, it was still energetically engaged in the same +task—piling up a deficit. The many little towns that +are a part of the city, and where most of the great industrial +concerns are located, are practically controlled +by the interests. But when the Tennessee Coal and Iron<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +Company became a vested interest, it took over all these +various concerns, and merged them into a trust, which +is a problem to every congress. And now as Sidney +Wyeth saw it, the company owned everything. It almost +owned the Negroes, and thousands of foreigners who +were employed by the company.</p> + +<p>But there was one thing the T.C.I. company did not +own, and that was train loads of liquor consumed by +its black help, and, of course, the whites also, to a degree, +but not in such proportion. Drink was very popular in +Effingham, exceedingly popular. It operated to an +alarming degree everywhere, and about pay days, held +sway in certain portions of the town, and made everything +run riot. And yet there were not nearly so many +saloons in Effingham as there might have been. It cost +too much for the privilege. At three thousand dollars a +year, only about one hundred fifty saloons were in +operation. But some years before, while the state was +under prohibition, "tigers" became the order. And now +many of them still operated. Especially on Sunday and +after closing hours, they were busy. They dealt in a +liquor known, in general, as "busthead;" and to say that +it deserved such a title, is saying little enough.</p> + +<p>It was Miss Palmer, who became at once a personal +friend of Wyeth's, and who first told him of these conditions. +From her, before he had time to observe of his +own initiative, he also learned a great deal in regard to +the black people.</p> + +<p>He was waiting on the porch for her when she returned +late that afternoon, in fact, it was night when she arrived. +She was tired, but cheerful and greatly encouraged. She +had secured eleven orders for his book, and collected +considerable more deposits in connection therewith.</p> + +<p>"I certainly did some talking to those Negroes this +afternoon," she exclaimed, drawing herself upon the +porch when she arrived. "I talked a blue streak; and +believe me, one after another succumbed," she boasted.</p> + +<p>"You work too late," he said, with a note of kindness +and admiration in his voice. "I do not usually work to +exceed six hours a day, and quit by six at the latest," +he added.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That's the trouble with Annie," said her cousin, and +a teacher also. "She has so much ambition when she +sees herself succeeding, that she invariably wears herself +out."</p> + +<p>"Have you met my roomers?" Miss Palmer inquired. +He shook his head and waited, while she, with much +ostentation, introduced them one by one.</p> + +<p>"This is Mr. Jones, who carries mail upon a rural +route; Mr. Farrell is a student at Tuskegee. He is +spending his vacation in our city. And you have been +talking with my cousin, Miss Black."</p> + +<p>Mr. Farrell was a small creature, so black in the darkness +of the night, that only a gloomy outline of his features +was discernable, while his white eyes reminded Sidney +as he winked them, of a pair of lightning bugs on a warm +June night. This was augmented by the occasional flash +of his white teeth. He was studying architectural drawing. +There was another student from the same school, +a West Indian Negro, and who, like his kind, was always +apparently desirous of learning, and asked Sidney many +questions. Mr. Jones, who happened to be another +cousin of Miss Palmer, and the aforementioned mail +carrier, was a suave creature who read books, and discoursed +with much practical intelligence.</p> + +<p>The following morning, Miss Palmer and Sidney were +starting toward the car, on their way to canvass, when +they stepped in a small drugstore conducted by a tall, +slender man, of about thirty-five. Wyeth had been in +the store two evenings before, or the day he arrived, +and overheard a big argument. He had now come to +know, that this was a place for warm debate, with the +druggist ever conspicuous as one of the debaters.</p> + +<p>He had not displayed his book there, or suggested a +sale to the druggist. There were certain classes of his +race to whom he never made a practice of showing the +book for several reasons. The first and most significant +of these reasons was, that he almost always found the +Negroes who were engaged professionally, including +teachers, not very appreciative of the work of their race, +although any of them would have been insulted if this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +were told them. He had also made observation from +other sources, concerning the possible sale of his book. +His decision to dispense henceforth with showing the +book to certain classes, had resulted, because of a little +incident the year before in Cincinnati. He had observed +the same in other cities before he reached Cincinnati. +In Dayton, Indianapolis, and elsewhere; but in Cincinnati, +it was so evident, that he was, in a way, ashamed +to tell it afterwards. This is what occurred:</p> + +<p>The colored people were making great efforts to secure +a Y.M.C.A., and were, when he left the city, within +fifteen thousand dollars of the amount they were required +to raise. The white people had given sixty thousand. +He became well acquainted with the secretary, and it +was from him that he learned, without inquiring, that, +of twenty-nine colored teachers who were receiving a +minimum of sixty dollars a month, twenty-one had not +subscribed one dollar toward this small amount the +colored people were strenuously trying to raise. And of +the eight who had subscribed, five had grudgingly given +one dollar each. The secretary, himself a former teacher, +admitted this with great humiliation.</p> + +<p>Wyeth had always found the teachers profuse with +excuses, when it came to buying the book. And he had +found the doctors little better; but, to avoid what he +had grown to expect, and which he invariably met, he +had decided to ignore this class of his race. He did not +offer criticism upon the whole teaching staff, because, of +the three teachers out of twenty-nine in Cincinnati, who +had actually contributed toward the colored Y.M.C.A., +the professor had shown his sincerity and race appreciation, +by subscribing one hundred dollars, and had paid it.</p> + +<p>So Sidney Wyeth would never have shown the book to +the druggist, with a view of sale, but Miss Palmer did. +In her insistent manner, she urged him to buy. Now +Wyeth, as was his custom, always went to the leading +book store in each town, and had never failed to sell +them a few books. The leading store in Effingham had +purchased ten copies, and had placed an advertisement +of ten inch space in the colored paper, that ran for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +month, and which the druggist had seen. So, when Miss +Palmer approached him insistently, he declared that he +had seen the book advertised at that store, and, as was +their custom, sometime during the year they offered all +books at forty-nine cents, he would, if he wanted the +book, purchase it then. Of course, he didn't want it, +and Wyeth was provoked that Miss Palmer had even +shown it to him; but Miss Palmer had, and, upon being +told of these conditions, she at once ceased her efforts.</p> + +<p>Of course, the druggist was wrong, and Wyeth knew it; +but the druggist didn't. He wanted to bet—any amount, +that he was right—that one of the biggest booksellers in +the southland, offered all books, regardless of "best +sellers," sometime during the year at forty-nine cents a +copy. It cost the druggist two dollars to learn that he +could be wrong, or mistaken at least, even if he had +<i>been to school and graduated from college</i>, which, in the +minds of his august contemporaries, meant that he <i>knew</i> +everything.</p> + +<p>It was Miss Palmer who advised Sidney that Dr. +Randall, for druggists were called doctors also, among these +people, had <i>been to school and graduated from college</i>.... +And Miss Palmer was much chagrined that Wyeth had +acted so hastily.... For times were hard and two dollars +was <i>something</i>.... If he had caught her eye when she +tried so hard to get his, she would have gotten him outside +for a minute, one little minute, and then she would +have told him who the other was.... She was almost in +tears as she remonstrated with him for his hasty act.... +Miss Palmer was sincere and meant it, because, for some +reason, she was unable as yet to account; she really +liked Mr. Wyeth. "He has such eyes," she told her +cousin when she returned, while the bet was being settled.</p> + +<p>"Well, we have lost two hours, so we will have to get +a move on us now, to make up for lost time. Of course," +he said cheerfully, "I've made two dollars, which is as +much, maybe more, than we would have made in the +meantime——"</p> + +<p>"You did what!" Miss Palmer was amazed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was some time before she could be brought to +believe it.</p> + +<p>"We will go to a different part of the quarter today," +she said after a time. Wyeth looked at her. Miss Palmer +was very kind. And Sidney Wyeth longed for kindness. +When he saw Miss Palmer as she was that day, he felt +something amiss in his heart. She had said nothing +today; whereas, yesterday she had acted, he thought, +boldly.</p> + +<p>The car now seemed to be flying through space. It +roared like a mad thing, and filled him with a peculiar +feeling; exhilaration overwhelmed him. For one moment +he forgot everything, and he felt a burning desire to +touch the woman. At his side sat Miss Palmer. She +had been kind to him, even though he had known her +almost no time. And then suddenly his hand found hers, +and, closing over it one moment, he crushed it. A +moment later the impulse had passed.</p> + +<p>The powerful car thundered on its way.</p> + +<p>Miss Palmer worked hard that day. All the hours +through, she talked and talked. She simply <i>made</i> those +black people buy. "The story of a young man, a young +man of our race, who had the strength and courage of a +pioneer, went alone into the wilds of the great northwest, +and there made conquest. Think of that as an example, +and incentive to effort for your children!" They nodded +and joined her in seriousness, though they knew not what +it all meant; but they did feel the strength of her eyes, +and the insistence held them.</p> + +<p>Wyeth suggested the route.</p> + +<p>She offered no objection. Whither he suggested, she +followed meekly, almost subserviently. And always, she +sought, whenever she could get his attention, his eyes, +and into them she looked for something; but it was ever +something unfathomable she saw therein. But the more +she was unable to fathom those depths, the more her +eagerness to do so became apparent.</p> + +<p>She talked of her work as a teacher, she told him then +of her ambition, and her hopes; but Miss Palmer, withal +she felt that day, could not, somehow, impart the secret<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +of her great ambition. Vainly she tried, in her most +artful way, to have him tell her something—something +of himself.</p> + +<p>But he never did. That made it harder for Miss +Palmer, for soon, she felt, she just <i>had</i> to know.</p> + +<p>"Over there," said she, pointing to a row of new +houses, uniform in splendor, "are homes that are beautiful +and still economical. It is my intention to begin the +purchase of one of them next year. All the people living +there in those houses are personal acquaintances of +mine and friends. And, as you will observe, there is a +school just around the corner, which adds greatly to the +value of the property. I want also to buy another home +in that neighborhood, as soon as I have the first one well +under payment, and so have it paid for by the time my +boy becomes of age."</p> + +<p>"Your boy!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she admitted, with a tired, hard smile.</p> + +<p>"Oh...."</p> + +<p>"I have been married."</p> + +<p>"Oh...."</p> + +<p>"But am now a widow."</p> + +<p>"Oh...."</p> + +<p>"But not by death."</p> + +<p>"Oh...."</p> + +<p>"No; <i>he</i> is not dead—at least he wasn't a month ago." +She shrugged her shoulders, and went on now somewhat +doggedly. "I am a grass widow, and you know what +that means...."</p> + +<p>He made no answer; but she knew he heard her, and +was listening. She went on as only an unsuccessful and +unhappy woman could. "Yes, when a woman marries a +man that she loves, and gives to him the best that's in +her, and, after years, is forced to give up the fight, her +very heart, for a piece of paper marked 'divorce,' she is +never the same woman she was, and might have continued +to be. There are those who say: 'Oh, I don't +care;' but I'm going to tell you, they do. The woman +lives on apparently gay, but her heart is dead within +her." For a long time now, there was silence. Presently, +she spoke again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am living entirely now for my little boy. He is all +I have, and I am willing, I feel, to slave until the skin +falls from my fingers, that he may have his chance. I am +planning to graduate him as early as possible, and place +him in a good northern school in the study of medicine."</p> + +<p>Again Sidney Wyeth felt a peculiarity about his heart. +His thoughts went back into yesterdays, and he recalled +all that he had lived and hoped for, and then for one +brief moment, another stood before him. Miss Palmer +was talking, but her voice seemed to come from far away. +Presently she touched him. He looked up and she saw +the <i>something</i> in his eyes, and suddenly all she had been +feeling passed, as she now observed him closely. Her +lips parted. They started to say: "You strange man. +You've had your troubles too." And then something else +seemed to say: "But you're game, oh you're game. +You've lived a bitter pill, a very bitter pill. Look into +those eyes; study them, and if you have suffered, and +by that suffering you have learned, you can read that a +secret lurks therein; you say nothing, but you feel, +nevertheless." What Miss Palmer did say when her lips +spoke was: "We'd better be going, Mr. Wyeth. It's +getting late. Hear the whistle of the furnace, and across +from that we hear another. That belongs to the Semet +Solvay; but they both are right. It's one o'clock and +thirty minutes. Time to canvass; we must go." Her +voice was kinder now than ever.</p> + +<p>They went.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOUR_2" id="CHAPTER_FOUR_2"></a>CHAPTER FOUR</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Eidder Stuck Up ah She's a Witch</i>"</p> + + +<p>They now passed between two large industrial plants +of the Tennessee Coal and Iron Company. To the left, +roaring mightily, was one of the many blast furnaces, +where the pig iron was made from the crude ore. Innumerable +small cars, upon which sat huge ladles, whirled +to and fro. Backward and forward they were pulled, out +of the great shed, where they received their supply of +molten matter from the largest cupolas in existence. +Everywhere the white heat flashed. Hundreds and +thousands of men, black and white (although as they +were now seen, they were all black), worked away. +System was everywhere evident. The cars, with their +loads of molten heat, moved with systematic regularity, +while each and every man seemed to know and fill a +certain place. Only a little carelessness, a little disregard +for established rules and regulation, would lead to death, +of one to a score of men.</p> + +<p>To the right of them, filling the hot summer air with +sulphuric and gaseous fumes, the plant of the Semet +Solvay Company was visible in all its activity. It rose +grim and forbidding, with intense heat, and stretched +back for a mile, seemingly, from where they passed. +Even the dirt upon which they walked, as they went +into the quarters between the plants, was hot and dead. +No grass was to be seen. A sickly little short weed +struggled for existence in this medley of industry.</p> + +<p>And now, before them rose a hill, at the top of which +were the quarters. High above the factories, as though +seeking the air, and as if to be as much as possible free +from the sulphuric fumes that at times almost stifled +one, these houses stood, dirty, grim and forbidding.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +They rose sinister-like in the dull sunlight, and fell back +beyond as they approached.</p> + +<p>When the two had reached the summit and viewed the +place closer, Sidney was, for a time, awed by the sight. +Row after row of little red or brown, shell-like homes +they were. With a thin board porch, they made little +resistance against the intense heat, for it seemed hotter +here than elsewhere.</p> + +<p>At this hour, the inmates could be seen spread about +on these little porches, if it happened to be on the shady +side; or else, they could be seen in the houses, and some +were even beneath them, anywhere they could find a +spot that would permit of a little rest; for, from one to +three weeks they must work at nights, twelve, thirteen +and fourteen long hours. The furnace cupolas had not +been cool, in many instances, since they were erected, +and only two shifts were employed. They were predominantly +black people.</p> + +<p>Only here and there was a mulatto to be seen. Little +children filled the grimy streets, that are made to stink +fearfully from the slag used in the paving. And now, as +the sun beats down, it was soft and stuck to the shoes, +much to the provocation of the walker. Notwithstanding +the apparent lack of comfort, evident everywhere in this +little village of workers, these little black children, with +an occasional Italian, seemed as cheerful and happy and +gay, as those of the aristocrats of the South Highlands. +They played busily, while their little faces, tanned by +the heat, were full of joy. They were as courteous—more +so than one would expect under the circumstances.</p> + +<p>When Sidney Wyeth inquired, he learned that the +T.C.I. company maintains and pays the teachers well +in the schools for the education of these masses of little, +growing human beings. Unfortunately, so torn and frittered +by race law legislation, the city and the county and +the state are far in arrears financially, and, were it left to +those bodies, these little children would not all, by any +means, learn the art of reading and writing; for, with all +our boast as the greatest nation of civilized people, there +is no law here, that compels the parent, guardian and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +what more, to send these children to school. Which, perhaps, +accounts for the fact that forty per cent of the +black population are illiterate, and almost as large a +per cent of the whites.</p> + +<p>They walked along together in silence, Miss Annie +Palmer and Sidney Wyeth. This silence was interrupted +only when they drew near one or a number of +these little human beings, who smiled upon them, and +made eyes back at Sidney, who winked humorously, and +then made them all happy with a few pennies, for he +loved children. They passed through this mass, which +our pen has attempted to describe, and found themselves +soon in a part given over to nature. Trees had made a +brave fight for the right to exist against poisonous gases, +and some had succeeded, in a measure; while garden +truck, closer to its mother earth, had apparently succeeded +to a still greater degree. Fences were in evidence; pride +as well. The children were cleaner; the houses were not +quarter-shacks any more; but commodious, even large +homes, and were occupied by a class, while workers, +nevertheless they had employed their earnings otherwise +than for liquor and dice, and other frivolities, the curse +that submerges the more ignorant and prideless. They +were a kind people, these were, and when approached +with a suggestion of literature, they smiled and replied: +"We are fond of reading."</p> + +<p>Thus Miss Palmer and Sidney Wyeth began work that +day, and until the sun was hurrying toward the west, +they talked and said words of kind sincerity to the many +they met, for these people deserved it. What was more +important, some made effort toward their betterment. +These were few in number. For this reason, such kind +words of encouragement—ay, very often praise, was +necessary.</p> + +<p>So, one by one they subscribed, and hoped for the book +soon, until their orders were many. The evening had +approached until the hour was near six, when they came +upon another, a black woman truly, but pride, apparently, +she had plenty. While not the finest, in point of value, +her house was one of the cosiest. It was painted in two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +colors, and reposed quietly behind a medley of small +trees, around which was a fair stand of blue grass. The +lace curtains, all clean and white, contrasted beautifully +behind and below the pale green shades, while within the +furniture was artistically arranged.</p> + +<p>They were invited in, and made most welcome. "Yes," +said the black woman, "I am fond, very fond of good +books, and when it comes to one which my race has +produced, I want it, for such are few. So you may take +my name, and bring the book as soon as you can."</p> + +<p>They thanked her profusely, and spoke, as they had +spoken many times that day, kind words of encouragement +and praise. She appreciated it.</p> + +<p>Yet some said of this woman, before the two made this +call:</p> + +<p>"She's a mean nigger, and you'll neveh be 'vited in da' +house! Um-m! She has no 'commadation 'bout her, +and she's eidder stuck up, ah she's a witch!" Whereupon +they shook their black heads, and went their way +with a mutter.</p> + +<p>But 'ere long another—and he was himself a practical +and successful man—said: "She's O.K., a fine woman; +but she runs a grocery store while her husband digs coal, +and, well, she doesn't credit Tom, Dick and Harry." +And then Wyeth and his companion understood.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The day's work was done at last, and they were hurrying +back to town. They were tired, both mentally and +physically, but their spirits were high. They were, moreover, +grateful, and seemed, to a great degree, to understand +each other. Their friendship has reached the stage +at which they could indulge in confidences, Miss Palmer +especially. She regarded Wyeth, out of her liquid eyes, +and smiled kindly, confidentially. "I'm glad I took up +the work—now."</p> + +<p>She smiled with more confidence than before. "Yes; +I am, really. I have <i>enjoyed</i> it." And still she smiled. +He did too. She smiled back, and then, in a voice that +was so soft, and kind, and confidential, she said: "You +wrote it, didn't you?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span></p> + +<p>He heard the car as it crashed along through the night, +for the sun had set long ago. The trees, for they were +passing through the forest, flashed darkly through the +electric lighted car, and Miss Palmer waited. He did not +reply. After a time—shall we say minutes—she sought +his eye. She was languid, and resigned to a degree. "If +you would only admit that which I am positive is true, +it would be so nice. I would truly be satisfied."</p> + +<p>"What matter could it make?" and then he stopped. +She might be more interesting curious than otherwise.... +He remained silent.</p> + +<p>"Oh, why do you maintain this silence regarding the +authorship?" she fretted, moving restlessly about.</p> + +<p>"Cannot we go along and sell it—that, in particular, +is all that matters, isn't it?" He tried to be reasonable. +"You will, as you must now see," he argued, "only need +to go to the <i>industrial</i> people, and success will be yours." +She was oblivious to all this. He resumed, somewhat uncertainly:</p> + +<p>"If many people—especially those in the class to which +I feel you belong—knew or thought that I am the author +of this book, their possible interest might become doubtful; +whereas, with no thought than the ordinary—that is +the usual fetish—they <i>might</i>, after reading it, be much impressed +with its message. Don't you agree with me?" +He wanted to be reasonable, but Miss Palmer was silent.</p> + +<p>She was still so when they left the car some minutes +later. When they had reached the curbing and stepped +upon the walk, they saw Hatfield. He had his suit case +and was in somewhat of a hurry, from the strides he was +making.</p> + +<p>"Where is he going, home?" inquired Miss Palmer.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," replied the other, "but I wouldn't +think so at least. He never said anything to me in regard +to it, when I left him this morning." Yet so he was, +though he never said so, when they met him and exchanged +a few words.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to a friend's house," and he gave Wyeth a +number. They told him of their success, whereupon he +secured a dollar, and that was the last time they saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +him. He went back with the same porter they had come +over with.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It was Legs who informed Sidney that young Hatfield +was going back to Attalia. Legs was having some experiences +of his own. Before he related them to Wyeth, +he inquired:</p> + +<p>"Well, Books, how goes it?" He was cheerful as +usual—in fact Legs was always cheerful—with one exception, +which we shall cite presently.</p> + +<p>"Fine, Legs," Wyeth beamed. "Couldn't be better, +which is saying a great deal. How's things with you?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Could</i> be a whole lot better," he laughed, with dancing +eyes; "but they have been worse. I've been busy +though. Working right along. Got me a gal now, and +won a little change today that I might lose tonight."</p> + +<p>He did—and more. He lost all he had, borrowed a +quarter from Wyeth, wanted a dollar, but Wyeth halted +him, advising that he loaned only to purchase the means +to fill his stomach, and then only when it was begging +for bread.</p> + +<p>After this, and for some time to come, Legs' fortune +varied from near prosperity, to going for a whole day +without anything to eat. And at these times, he dispensed +with his usual cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>One day, he pawned his meagre jewelry for all he could +obtain thereon, which amounted to only a dollar and a +half. He ate a big meal at a cheap restaurant, got his +shirts from the laundry, paid fifty cents on his room rent, +and went with the remainder to a game. Luck was with +him, as it is with all, once in a while. True, it was only +in a small measure, but he had sufficient to finish paying +his rent, bought a cold lunch that he sensibly tucked +away for future purposes, and went to bed with a dollar +in his pocket.</p> + +<p>Sleeping peacefully at two A.M., he was awakened by +John Moore, the man of the house, who told him—Sidney +heard this—of a great game close by, and where hundreds +were at stake. So Legs got up, not too cheerfully, +from his comfortable bed and peaceful sleep,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +dressed, and a moment later, followed Moore out into +the night, and to fortune. (?)</p> + +<p>He came back in about an hour. He was drunk and +broke, angry with himself, and more so with John Moore.</p> + +<p>"Damn that nigger!" he cried terribly, when alone +with Wyeth. "Damn him, damn him, d-a-m-n him! +Came in here and got me out of bed," he roared, brandishing +his long arms. "When I was sleeping the sleep of +peace. 'Nigga's gotta big game on; all kinds a-money. +I'n beat 'm in scan, know I c'n.' And then like a fool," and here +he looked down at himself, as if to see which would be +the best part to kick, "I up and goes with him. Of +course, he must have a drink for himself; so a quarter +first went to 'get him right.' And then to the game. +No sooner had we arrived than 'slip me a haf,' said he, +and like a damn fool I did. He bet a quarter that a +dinge who held the craps wouldn't hit, and lost. He +repeated—and lost again. He wanted the last quarter, +declaring his luck would begin with it; but I forestalled +him and got the craps myself and threw them dancing, +clear across the table, and they turned up," Wyeth +waited eagerly, "—craps!"</p> + +<p>"Doggone that nigga! 'f he comes around me again, +I'm going to shoot him in the head—right through the +middle of the head!" And with this solemn declaration, +he went forthwith back to bed. He slept peacefully, and +awakened the following morning, hungry and madder than +ever, as the fact dawned upon him. Wyeth loaned him +a quarter, and gave him some good advice.</p> + +<p>"Quit it! Get a job! Work! Honest work! Come to +the room with a book, read and thereby learn something +and save your money!"</p> + +<p>"I will, so help me God!" declared the other, feeling +repentant all the way through.</p> + +<p>"And remember—in speaking of the God—he helps +those who help themselves."</p> + +<p>"My father was a preacher!"</p> + +<p>Wyeth made no further comment; but Legs was a +good rustler. He did better—for a while. He looked +the town from end to end for the kind of work he followed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +but without success. So it continued, day after day, his +great problem was to get something to fill that stomach, +which was now flabby, very much so at times. He +managed, by diligent application, to drop something into +it once and sometimes twice a day, and one night he +came to the room with an exclamation, that he had +eaten three times that day, and had a dime left in his +pocket. He drew this forth, balanced it on the tip of his +forefinger, observed it long and earnestly, and then said: +"Little one, we are friends, it's true, but such we cannot +possibly remain; for tomorrow you will have to go +the way of the rest," whereupon he touched his stomach +with the forefinger of his other hand. "So, tonight, on +a pilgrimage of fortune we must go, you and I. It's +more or less—possibly nothing. So, to the first crap +game I take thee. And once there in the glare, I shall +risk you against the rest. Therefore, little one, prepare +thyself, for soon I shall bet thee, understand, in the first +crap game I come to, a nickel at a time."</p> + +<p>He did—and won. He continued then for some time +to win and win, and resumed all the cheerfulness he once +possessed. His winnings continued until he had redeemed +his jewelry, paid a week's room rent in advance, was +clean, and seven dollars to the good over all. Then it +began to go the other way. He quit, however, and deposited +five dollars with his friend Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"I'm doing this," said he, "because these roomers, +who shoot craps too, would not allow me to be otherwise +than broke." Thus the fortune of Legs took a turn for +the good, for one day. The next night he went broke. +Thus we will leave him for the present, and return to +Sidney Wyeth and Miss Annie Palmer, who sold books.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIVE_2" id="CHAPTER_FIVE_2"></a>CHAPTER FIVE</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>A Bigger Liah They Ain't in Town</i>"</p> + + +<p>John Smith was a large man, fat, and big-hearted as +well, so Wyeth had been told previously. Sidney met +both Smith and his wife, and she was larger still. She, +too, was a good, kind woman, with a multitude of friends +whom they had made by kindness to others. She was a +full blood, while he was not more than half. Together +they would weigh to exceed five hundred pounds. And, +of course, he was a preacher.</p> + +<p>Said he, when he had heard the story of <i>The Tempest</i>: +"Yes, I'll take one—no, you may put me down for two." +And then he seated himself with as much comfort as was +possible upon the greasy counter, for John Smith was a +successful merchant, who made his living by the sale of +necessities, to a multitude of his clan, who were employed +by the Semet Solvay Company. As he made the above +remark, he was ready, as we can see, for a long conversation.</p> + +<p>"Been takin' many odah's?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"Oh, lots of them," the other replied, cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"M-m. Who all yu' got in that list?" he went on.</p> + +<p>The other shoved it before him.</p> + +<p>"M-m," said he, running his eyes over the order list. +"See yu' have Lem Jackson down he' fo' one."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the other; "seems to be quite a fine +fellow," he commented.</p> + +<p>"M-m; but a bigger liah they ain't in town." He +was not much excited by the statement, and went on +calmly: "He's fine all right, though—to drink whiskey. +M-m. Fight 'n' steal, and lay around drunk, and go +regularly to jail, and likewise have somebody pay him +out. I have done so myself, a few times, 's why I happen +t' know. M-m. Two times in succession I have done<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +that in the last thirty days. M-m; but the next time +he gets his black hide in there, in so fo' 's I'm concerned, +he c'n stay. Yeh, 'n' 'twouldn't 'sprise me 'f the officers +didn' come rid'n up at any time fo' 'im, 'cause 'es been +actin' mighty suspicious the last few days. I'n bet he's +been int' somethin'."</p> + +<p>"Heah! Heah!" he cried, jumping from the counter +and hurrying to the platform in front, "what'n the devil +you all makin' all this he' noise 'bout!"</p> + +<p>"O-oh, uncle," cried a little one, grasping his trousers +and looking up, "the p'lice uz jes' gone ova the hill wi' +Lem Jackson. Dey has 'rested 'im fo' stealin' coppa +wiah."</p> + +<p>Sadly, Wyeth drew his pencil through a name he had +written not an hour before.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad to get your opinion concerning these, Elder," +he said gratefully. "The ones we have had down here +have been pretty good, and I don't wish to be cherishing +expectations that are not likely to be realized. So tell +me, if you don't mind, who can be relied on."</p> + +<p>"Aw, I do'n mind," he rumbled; "'cause them that's +all right is all right; and them that ain't, ain't. So whateve' +I tell you 's all the same in the end, exceptin' you +won't need t' build on them that ain't.</p> + +<p>"These people who had oh'd, 'n' took the' books so +readily, 'n' did'n' haf t' wait fo' pay day, ah, among the +good people we got out he', that's the reason." He took +the paper from Wyeth's hand, and, pointing out the +names, he began:</p> + +<p>"He's Joe Sim's now, I see you have, 's as good as gold. +You c'n count that book delivered; also I see you have +Tom Hutchis, 'n' 'es O.K. Jerry Carter is also; but +here's Joe Tuttle, outside-a Lem Jackson, a bigger liah, +gambler—tin horn gambler, never lived; 'n' he caint +read, why has he subscribed fo' the book?" The other +looked at the name, and then said:</p> + +<p>"I think Miss Palmer took that order."</p> + +<p>"Aw, that's it. He's chivalrous, all right, and would +be gallant enough to subscribe to anything a woman's +carrying around; but he won't be man 'nough t' take<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +it, 'n' he knows it." At this point he laid the list down, +stuck his big stomach forward, rested his hands thereupon, +and with his finger to emphasize, he forthwith +gave Wyeth a lecture on Negroology.</p> + +<p>"I been runnin' this sto' heah fo' thoiteen yeahs, 'n' +lemme tell y', brother, I know these nigga's fo' what +they is." He paused a moment, and surveyed the list +again, critically. Then, laying it down, said: "Jump up +on the counter and rest yo'se'f, I gotta story t' tell yu'." +Wyeth obeyed, and John Smith began.</p> + +<p>"I was run outta Geo'gi', 'n' I ain' 'shame to admit it; +but notwithstandin' the fact, 'twas a mistake 'n' aftwa'd +the whi' people found it out 'n' was sorry, 'n' wanted me +t' return. That, however, was afta I was ove' he' 'n' +doin' business, 'n' mo' bus'ness than I had eve' done +befo'. So I jes' thanked them fo' admittin' to the mistake, +'n' stay's he'. Well, 's I was sayin', I came ove' +he' 'n' sta'ted a sto'. I had owned a big fa'm back the' +in Geo'gi', 'n' I received $10,000 fo' it 'n' put's most uv +it in th' sto' 'n' trusted cullud people. In three ye's I's +broke—flat broke. Did'n' have nothin' but my credit. +I had opened that sto' wi' the finest stock of eve'thing: +Clothing, boots 'n' shoes, groceries 'n' hardware, 'n' 's +I said, trusted my people.</p> + +<p>"Now a nigga, with rare exceptions, will not pay 'n' +hones' debt, oh, no! He'll lie, 'n' lie, 'n' lie! T' make a +long story sho't, they lied me outta bus'ness. So I +broke, but wi' plenty sense, I sta'ted all ove' agin, wi' +the help of the Lawd 'n' the whi' people, what knowed +I was hones' 'n' ambitious.</p> + +<p>"That was ten yeah's ago. Seven ye's ago I made a +'rangement wi' the Semet Solvay Company t' give these +da'kies credit, and th' company has since then, held the +amount from the' pay envelope. From then on I began +to climb, but I had a drawback that was like a tick in +my shirt, but I'll git t' that later. Now nobody c'n say +I gets my money by holding up these nigga's, either; +fo' I gives 's much 'n' mo' fo' th' money than does the +average sto' keeper 'bout he'.</p> + +<p>"And so, with the help a th' Lawd, and a good wife,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +I have now twenty-nine houses 'n' lots, 'n' a little money +besides. And he' comes the drawback I sta'ted t' speak +uv. Eve' week that comes ove' my head, I mus' spend +good money t' get some a these low-down big mouth +nigga's outta jail. Last ye', 'n' you wouldn't b'lieve it, +but I spent nine hund'd dollahs a-gettin' nigga's outta +jail, 'n' this ye' promises t' exceed that."</p> + +<p>"But why will you pay their fines?" exclaimed the +other. "Why don't you let the skunks stay and work +it out?"</p> + +<p>"That's it! That's it!" he exclaimed, moving about +on the counter. "I swear at the end of each ye' that I +ain' go'n pay another fine, but they pr'ceed diligently t' +get locked up, 'n' I, bye and bye, comes fo'th wi' the long +green 'n' pays'm out.</p> + +<p>"Now he's a incident uv it: Take this heh Lem +Jackson, fo' instance. A low-down o'nry hound, it would +be a blessing t' this dirty little district 'f he was in his +grave; but the troubles comes by him not being there. +So he, on earth a-runnin' a-roun'; but wi' a family—a +wife 'n' chillun a-hollerin' fo' bread.</p> + +<p>"It comes 'bout by his wife, who was one a-the finest +girls in this burg when he married her. So yu'n see, +when he pr'ceeds t' git drunk, 'n' drunk right, understand, +'n' then gets t' squabblin' wi' some other no count +nigga, 'n' gets run in, who's affected?"</p> + +<p>The other winced.</p> + +<p>"It's the same wi' dozens of the others. I'd let them +stay in there 'n' rot, so fo' 's they is concerned; but t' +me comes a cry'n wife, 'n' a-string-a hongry kids, so I +goes 'n' bails the devil out." He paused a moment now +to breathe a spell. "'Cassionally," he resumed, "I c'n, +with some 'nfluence I have with the judge, get some out +without payin' a fine; but th' lawyer must have his, +anyhow, 'n' a nigga, 's I done already said, would'n' pay +the Lo'd Jesus when he's out; but promises to bring eve' +dime he makes t' you when he's in.</p> + +<p>"So, the're my bu'den, come day, go day. Over +theah, fo' 'nuther instance, stands a nigga—see him? +The one that's so drunk 'n' noisy? I got him out las'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +week, when he had received two hund'd days on th' +gang, 'n' t'day I got his brother out who was locked up +Friday."</p> + +<p>"Why can they not keep out of so much trouble?" +said Wyeth seriously.</p> + +<p>"Whiskey. The minute they get the' pay, the first +thing they wants is whiskey, 'n' then a crap game."</p> + +<p>"And women," said Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the other; "but they won't spend any +money on them; no, that would in one sense, be too +much like right."</p> + +<p>"What per cent of them, do you think, who, after +giving their word as a bond, would stand to it, a promise, +you understand?"</p> + +<p>"I'm 'shame t' admit it, I'm 'shame t' admit it; but, +honestly, I wouldn't estimate that more than two out of +ten could be trusted to keep their word, other than t' +buy a pint a whiskey, or shoot dice until they did'n' +have a dime."</p> + +<p>"What effect is the white man's prejudice having upon +him directly?" Wyeth inquired.</p> + +<p>"None! None! In the days of old, and even yet, the +white man's prejudice was very hindersome; but, as +time has wore on, and the races have come to expect +each other as they know they will be, the prejudice of +the white man is not near so hindersome as some a ouh +people would have you b'lieve it. Of co'se," he added +thoughtfully, "politic's is in a way denied him; but a great +many more can vote than they do if they would pay the' +poll taxes. All in all, you'll find so much ignorance, and +ignorance by preference among them, and their minds are +so polluted with the devil, until politic's as they are now, +would not make much difference. I sometimes shudder +when I look around me and listen, to conclude what the +race is sometime coming to."</p> + +<p>"You have a large number of churches, a hundred odd, +I think. That should act as a great feature toward the +moral evolution."</p> + +<p>"Very little, very little," he returned, shaking his +head sadly. "For this reason: The churches, while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +having, of course, many good men as their pastors, are +filled up with more grafters, it seems, and mean rascals +as well, until the calling is not fulfilled. I don't hesitate +t' say that there are more grafters among the preachers, +than any other profession among the colored people in +this town. And the Baptists have, and still are, building +so many little churches, until every dime available, and +unavailable too, is used fo' this purpose, instead of some +means to help the chillun."</p> + +<p>"Don't you think, figuratively speaking, that there +are too many Negro churches?"</p> + +<p>"'Course the' is, a-course. Why there are more than +seventy Baptist churches among Negroes in the town +alone. That in itself, is an example of the utter selfishness +tha' p'vails heh."</p> + +<p>"How does it come about? It seems to me that the +organization of the church system must be very loose, to +permit of such a wholesale building of churches all the +time. It would seem advisable that if they had fewer +churches, with better conduct in the administration of +those few, more good would result."</p> + +<p>"Well, the Baptists are dominated, to some extent, by +the association, but it is inadequate in many ways. For +instance, when they rule a pastor out, he claims to a +handful of devouts and friends, that he has been made +the goat of a frame-up, starts him a church in some +shack, or any other place where he can concentrate a +few shouters, and continues."</p> + +<p>"And what effect does all this have upon the children?"</p> + +<p>He held up his hand in despair. "Brother, brother! +That is the sad part. The colored child in this town is +lucky, 'f he becomes anything else but a criminal before +he does anything else. His surroundings 'n'—what's +that other thing?" he stopped short, and held his hand +to his head.</p> + +<p>"Environment?"</p> + +<p>"That's it! His 'nvironment is so bad. He is surrounded +by eve' thing conducive t' crime 'n' degeneration. +He sees, hears, 'n' is brought in contact, in his +eve' day life, with all that is evil, 'n' learns t' drink<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +whiskey befo' he gets into pants. And now, instead of +the Negro churches concentrating their efforts toward +the raising of the child, they put all the fo'ce into the +preacher's lungs, trying t' convert ole sinnahs that +nothin' but hell itse'f will effect."</p> + +<p>"A library, and Y.M.C.A., properly conducted, might +have some effect for the good, don't you think?"</p> + +<p>"A dead investment fo' yeahs t' come, fo' the reason +that they would have no incentive to attend either. +Without clean, intelligent parents, 'n' better conducted +churches, such cannot fulfill the purpose."</p> + +<p>"Hadn't we better be going?" called Miss Palmer at +this moment. "It's getting late."</p> + +<p>The two shook hands as they parted. As Sidney went +over the hill, that sloped for a long way down to the +car line, he did not seem to hear Miss Palmer, and he +answered her mechanically.</p> + +<p>He was thinking, thinking of what he had learned, in +the last hour, from John Smith, merchant.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIX_2" id="CHAPTER_SIX_2"></a>CHAPTER SIX</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Yes—Miss Latham</i>"</p> + + +<p>Three weeks had passed since Mildred Latham first +saw the city she now called home. She considered it the +only home she ever really had; because she had in one +person a friend, such as she had never felt she would +have. That friend was Constance Jacobs. Daily, they +went forth together in their work, which was the sale of +<i>The Tempest</i>. There was another, who was, apparently, +a friend also. That was Wilson Jacobs—but more of him +later.</p> + +<p>Where there is congeniality, understanding and sympathy, +there is happiness to a degree. When such is the +case, every day—despite even an arduous task, within +itself, becomes a holiday. Such were the days which +Mildred Latham experienced. Constance was like a +sister. One of those rare creatures, whose happiness +came in her honest and sincere desire, to see that others +were happy about her. She had found Mildred a girl +secretive to an unfathomable degree, and, to say the least, +strange; but withal, a personality, and a sympathy that +was so sincere, even devout, that she loved her more +than her own soul. That affection seemed to grow and +become more apparent when she saw, slowly but truly, +nevertheless, a cloud lifting from the brow of the girl +who came to her door in quest of lodging, not long since.</p> + +<p>"Wilson," said she one day, "do you know, can you +appreciate how much it means to one to please somebody; +to make one feel happy, relieved, and in turn, see +that person, come to know her, and see how genuinely +she can, in turn, appreciate what one does?"</p> + +<p>"You are dealing in riddles today, Constance. I don't +understand; but I will guess. Is it Mil—Miss Latham?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes—<i>Miss</i> Latham," whereupon she smiled upon +him, and then looked away.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she resumed, looking out of the window upon +a small garden she was trying to further, "it is she. I +think if I know her until the end of my days, there will +always be something strange—something I do not—can +never understand; but, in addition to showing a kind +regard for the little things it pleases one's heart to do, +she makes me so happy."</p> + +<p>"She keeps me puzzled," said Wilson. "I can never +make up my mind about her. She is indeed a mystery. +I do not, as I can see, have any clue in guessing who she +is—and what she is, nor can I even conjecture. She is a +lady. But as you say, and have said before, there is +something about her that one can never understand." +He was thoughtful. Presently he heard his sister.</p> + +<p>"She is an excellent saleswoman, although I do not +think she was selling the book until she came here. I +have not asked her. She is one of these people who, +while not forbidding approach, yet her manner does not +invite questioning. But she is a business woman—girl. +I cannot come to see her as a girl, and yet, in the sense +we know her, she is not a woman."</p> + +<p>"I finished the book. That young man had an extraordinary +experience, to say the least," said Wilson.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Carroll has finished the copy I sold him, but his +sympathies are not altogether with the pioneer; he +criticises him."</p> + +<p>"How's that? Oh, yes, I understand. I have heard +the same thing from others. They see it; that the +pioneer should have seen the evil and insincerity of the +preacher, and should have governed his happiness accordingly. +Yes," he went on, "but the pioneer <i>did</i> see that +the preacher meant no good; he was aware, fully aware +that he was about to become the victim of an intrigue. +But regardless of this fact, it must be appreciated, that +if this grave incident had not come to pass in the life +of that young man, we would not now have the book. +Men do not——"</p> + +<p>"And women."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, of course," he smiled, "write that kind of book +unless their lives have met with extreme reverses; something +in their souls has gone amiss, and, as a last resort—I +can't quite find the words to explain it; but it—what +they write—is a brief of the soul; while the public is the +court, and to this court, as in the common court of the +land, they cry out for justice, restitution."</p> + +<p>"Well," sighed Constance, "whoever this Lochinvar is, +and regardless of his misfortunes, writing the book has +made one person happy. That person is Mildred Latham. +The book is her hobby. I would give something to learn +why she is so wrapped up in the work; but it gives her +more pleasure, I am sure, to show it to someone, and tell +them the story a dozen times a day, than it does some of +those levee Negroes to get drunk. And the work, she is +simply lost in it. She makes the six work days of the +week seem like one, with her cheerful enthusiasm. The +very life in itself seems to please her. To make readers +out of multitudes who've never given reading a second +thought, seems to be her great ambition. She succeeds, +too. And at the end of such days, more than at any +other time, she is like I fancy her to be: Feminine, +lovable, sympathetic—human in all its depths."</p> + +<p>"We certainly struck it rich when she condescended to +play for the choir. And she can seem to get more out of +the organ than anyone has heretofore."</p> + +<p>"She sings too. I never knew that she could sing so +sweetly, until she led last Sunday, when Bernice Waverly +was ill."</p> + +<p>"She almost made me forget my text."</p> + +<p>"She's coming now," whispered Constance, as, upon +the narrow walk, a familiar footfall sounded. Presently +the screen slammed lightly behind the one of their conversation.</p> + +<p>"I've been clear to the river, walked all the way there +and back. Thirty blocks in all," she cried cheerfully, +surveying both, smilingly.</p> + +<p>"And after all the walking you did today in delivering!" +Constance remonstrated softly. "You mustn't +overdo your good health, dear. We would both be ter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span>ribly +upset if you were taken down in any way. Did you +know that?" The other was taken by surprise. She +was plainly embarrassed for a moment, and to dismiss it +she plucked childlike at her skirts. Presently she said +lightly:</p> + +<p>"Always saying something, Constance." And suddenly +she flew into the caress of the other. "I haven't become +used to such words, yet, and you'll have to be careful in +using them. Because," and here she buried her head +against the other's shoulder, "I might be likely to boo-hoo." +The three laughed it away now.</p> + +<p>"Constance tells me, Miss Latham," said Wilson, +"that you are an agent, sophisticated in all the arts that +result in a sale." His eyes now sought hers with unfeigned +admiration.</p> + +<p>"Constance is, too; and did she not mention herself?" +She rated Constance now the least bit severely. "You +never give yourself credit for anything. Why don't +you?" She frowned, but it was too grateful—her appearance—to +be accepted seriously.</p> + +<p>"How many copies are both of you delivering weekly +now?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"We delivered eighty-seven this week so far, and forty-five +last week," replied Mildred, sitting very close to his +sister on a small settee.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever thought, Mildred," said Constance, +"that selling a book, or anything, for that matter, is a +task within itself, calling always for initiative. The +average person has not the courage, at least he has not +practiced it, that would make a salesman or saleswoman. +All of us, with possibly a few exceptions, are chattels, +human chattels. The ordinary person would stand on +his head on a nail for an hour, if someone told him that +was right; whereas, to take upon himself the task of +leading anything, he is an utter failure."</p> + +<p>"Constance is psychological today, don't you think?" +smiled her brother; but Mildred accepted the words +seriously and listened for more. Constance had a turn +of logic, and was in the habit, Mildred had learned, of +saying some very serious things at times; although she +could not be regarded as entirely serious.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That is why I think you are so successful, Mildred," +she went on. "You seem to be possessed with initiative; +it seems a part of your construction; you seem charged +with it; and, in addition to this, is your kind regard and +appreciation, for another's point of view."</p> + +<p>"Oh, please don't tell me so many nice things. I can't +believe it; I have never seen myself in the way you +speak of, and if you persist, dear," and her smile upon +Constance was the softest, "you might make me vain—and +I would almost rather be anything than vain—and +spoil it all. Here!" She kissed her a long lingering kiss, +and then flew to her room.</p> + +<p>"Wilson," said his sister, when they were alone again, +"when I think of the young man and his experiences in +the story, and his make-up and point of view, I find +myself connecting Mildred. She fills my dreams in that +story as the One Woman. How successful and how happy +that man could have been, had he had a treasure like her, +for his own."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes, possibly. No doubt; but if, taking the +story as it is, if he had her now, after what has come to +pass, I judge he could appreciate her real worth to a +greater degree. Don't you agree with me?"</p> + +<p>She was thoughtful a moment before replying. "Yes, +I think I do. It <i>would</i> be different now." She was +reflective for some time before she went on again. "The +other day I said to her: 'If you had been in the +girl's place in the story, how would you have accepted +this father?' I shall not soon forget how strange she +looked. Her entire being seemed to undergo a change. +From the way I recall it, her mind seemed to go back +into the past, and she was so odd for a few seconds, that +I was sorry I said it. Then, after a moment, during +which she seemed to struggle with something, she said: +'I would not, you may be sure, have been like the girl.' +That was all, and I said no more; nor do I think I will +again. She acted—ah, I can't hardly frame it; but, +frankly, too peculiar."</p> + +<p>"I'm going to bed, Sis'," said her brother now. His +eyes were evidence that he should go. He was awake<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +now for a moment. "I've been much interested in what +has passed tonight, Sis'. I'll be glad to talk on the same +subject again." He was silent a moment, and then, +rising, he said, "Good night."</p> + +<p>"Good night, Wilson."</p> + +<p>Then she heard his door close, after watching him +until he reached his door; after that, she fell into deep +and serious thinking. It concerned him. He was all she +had—this brother—and his future was in her thoughts +now, a grave concern of hers. Yes, and Wilson Jacobs +was now one and thirty.... He had no wife—not even +did he see women in that sense. Constance didn't think +of herself now—nor at any other time, apparently. +And yet she was twenty-eight; but she felt, if her brother +was to be a happy man, he should consider his life more +seriously. He was lost in his purpose. Mildred Latham +was a girl, the kind of girl she would like to see him +take notice of.</p> + +<p>And then she was jerked back into a sudden reminder.... +Wilson <i>had</i> been acting different lately. How could +she, for one moment, have forgotten it. Yes, he had +been acting <i>very</i> differently.... He was all attention +when Mildred was saying anything. He was careful never +to disturb her. And only tonight, when they had spoken +of her together, he had almost called her by her first +name.</p> + +<p>Constance Jacobs was now oblivious to what was +about her. She continued to think. Mildred was kind, +she was intelligent; she was—and here Constance forgot +the words Mildred had said not an hour before, 'I cannot +stand vanity'—beautiful.</p> + +<p>She retired presently, but it was sometime before she +went to sleep.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVEN_2" id="CHAPTER_SEVEN_2"></a>CHAPTER SEVEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>It All Falls Right Back on Society</i>"</p> + + +<p>"Two Negroes killed yesterday in the city, is the +homicide record for this town, which makes thirteen +killed in the last week," said Wilson Jacobs the following +morning, as he laid the paper down to take up his knife +at breakfast. "Every day, at least, it is almost every +day, there is a murder of each other by our people in this +town. Saturday night or Sunday usually sees four or +five such crimes."</p> + +<p>"Isn't it deplorable?" breathed Mildred, seating herself +at the other side. "What accounts, Mr. Reverend"—she +somehow found it awkward to call him Reverend—"Jacobs, +for such acts, that is, such is to be expected; +but why does there happen to be so much of it here?"</p> + +<p>"Ignorance—lack of intelligence in our people. This +city has a preponderance of ignorant, polluted people +among the Negroes. They flock into this town from all +around, and represent the low, polluted, and depraved +element of our race. They settle about the levee district, +spend their earnings for the worst whiskey, give the +remainder of their time to gambling and all forms of +vice, and murder is the natural consequence."</p> + +<p>"Is there no way, there are so many churches, it would +seem that so many places of worship would have a good +effect upon these people?" said the other anxiously.</p> + +<p>"More than a hundred Negro churches in this town; +but they are, for the most part, churches only. Seventy +of these are Baptist, and they are building more right +along."</p> + +<p>"I meet it every day in my work," she said. "Always +so many apparently good women, mothers and daughters, +sisters, who say: 'I sho would lak t' have that book, +but y' see, it's lak this. We's building a new chu'ch;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +or, a rally is on next Sunday, 'n' all the women is axed +t' give five dollars 'n' the men ten,' etc. and etc. But +that is not the most I hear; it is: 'Lawd, Lawd, honey, +yu' sweet li'l chile. I sho is sorry to disappint you. +I sho is. You walkin' way up heh 'n' bringin' tha' book; +but don' you know, honey, that low down nigga man a +mine went off Sat'dy night un got drunk, got t' fightin' +and was 'rested. I did'n' pay no 'tention when 'e did'n' +show up a-Sat'dy night; nor was I wo'ied Sunday; but +when Monday mawnin' come 'n' no nigga, den I knowed +de p'lice done got dat nigga. And dey had, Sat'dy night +fo' fightin' 'n' 'sturbin de peace. So I done took yo' +money, honey, 'n' got dat nigga out. 'n' now, honey, I +jes' cain' say when I'll be ready, 'cause 'e done lost his +job, too, so that means I gotta take ceh' a both uv us.'"</p> + +<p>"If we allow our minds to dwell too long on it, frankly, +Miss Latham," said he, "we will become discouraged. +Where ignorance is bliss, it may be folly to be wise; but +it is unprofitable, from a moral point of view. So, as +long as we have a preponderance of ignorance, just so +long are we going to have a dreadful homicide record in +this, and other towns."</p> + +<p>"I read an editorial in the paper recently, with regard +to murder and the record per city," said Miss Latham. +"I see that the south leads. And this town and Effingham +seem to struggle for the lead of them all. It was +not decided as to which had the most, but it stated that +more people were murdered in either one of them than in +any other city in the world, regardless of population."</p> + +<p>"And that is not all. In both of these cities, no data +is kept of the number the police kill. I know policemen +personally, and see them on duty, who have killed as +many as half a dozen Negroes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, be merciful!" she cried. "Can this really be +so?"</p> + +<p>"It <i>is</i> so," he maintained. "Why last week I stopped +a few days in Effingham on the way from Attalia, and +read on the front page of one of the leading papers, and +which was accompanied by a cut, that an old policeman, +who had seen twenty-five years on the force, and who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +had recently been made a captain, had never killed a +man. It was this fact, obviously, that was the most +extraordinary."</p> + +<p>"Cannot the city government do more toward the +suppression of so much crime?" she asked, forgetting to +eat her breakfast.</p> + +<p>"They cannot to any great extent, because it is the +task of society. The very foundation upon which this +crime rests, is due to ignorance on the part of the masses. +You cannot reason with a mind that has no training. +Have you ever seen it that way?" he asked, more serious +now than she had ever seen him before, notwithstanding +he was a serious person.</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"No one can, the law of the land cannot. It all falls +right back on society." He was too serious now for a +time to say anything, and he ate his meal with his face +contracted in serious thought. Presently he said: "I +am a minister of the gospel, and have the highest regard +for the Presbyterian faith; but, honestly, when I see +the Baptists with their loose system, keeping the black +population that make up their body, and with little, +almost no effort whatever toward the education of the +children, and when I see still further, the Methodists +with their better system, in that they are not held back +so much by 'splitters,' I sometimes regret that the world +took Martin Luther seriously. For, say what they will, +the conduct of the Catholics in regard to the children, +marriage and divorce, has an encouraging result in our +civic life."</p> + +<p>"I believe that if there were a Christian movement +here as there is in the northern cities, Y.M.C.A. and +libraries, and if those who are leaders of the race would +encourage the patronage of these places, eventually, it +would result to the public's good," she said, after some +thought.</p> + +<p>"Only one place in the south, as yet, seems to be +making any effort along such Christian lines. And you +would not believe it, but the greatest barrier to this has +been the preachers. In their church effort, they have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +the people fairly well under control, but to their own end. +In Attalia, they have almost come to appreciate the fact, +that a more intelligent and cleaner populace reacts to +the welfare of the church. Everything seems favorable +toward getting one."</p> + +<p>"I am sure that would make a great difference in +time," said she, heartily. "In Cincinnati, they expect +to begin one soon. They have almost all the subscriptions +in now." She was silent for a time, and then +pursued: "Do you not think such a movement could +be stimulated here?"</p> + +<p>"Not at the present, I think, regardless of the great +need of one, and of the great good it could do. It will be +some time before the preachers would come to lend their +support—in fact, I do not think it could be expected +until they have been shown, in a majority, that such +would react for the good of all."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my!" cried Constance, entering at this moment, +"you two appear to have worked yourself into a frenzy +of excitement." She surveyed both, questioningly.</p> + +<p>"We have," her brother replied.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHT_2" id="CHAPTER_EIGHT_2"></a>CHAPTER EIGHT</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Where Are You From?</i>"</p> + + +<p>Mildred worked hard that day. As she went from the +rear of one house to another, she studied the people she +met, more seriously than she had done before. By this +time, her work had become automatic, and she did not +find it hard or monotonous, to say the same thing over +and over again. She had, moreover, become accustomed +to the class of people among whom she worked. She liked +it now, and for more than one reason; but perhaps the +greatest reason, was because it brought her into the +closest contact with humanity, without regard to conventionality. +The people she met daily, with few exceptions, +made no attempt to be conventional. They +were human, almost all of them. She met them in their +vocations; she studied their environment. Some she +saw, grown people with families, but themselves like +children. They gave their word with apparent sincerity, +and did not make any more effort to keep it than the +merest babe. Why did they not? She asked this question, +and then studied them carefully for the answer. It was +ignorance. It amused her to find so many who were +positive they did not want it, did not even read, so how +could they use it? "But you can read?" she would +inquire. "Sho!" would invariably come the answer. +Then came argument. Force of reason on her part, and +sometimes, she guiltily felt, it was by force of argument +they were induced to buy. She now paid little attention +when they remarked that they did not want the book. +Obviously, since the most stubborn ones were, very often +after argument, the most appreciative buyers, she found +it reasonable to ignore their words of objection.</p> + +<p>Mildred's life was a diversion that was much to her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +liking. She was learning the greatest lesson a woman +could learn—the study of human nature.</p> + +<p>On Sunday, when she met others (Wilson Jacobs' +church had for its members the more thoughtful and +respectable Negro element), she was the recipient of +many surprised expressions. They were, she invariably +found, surprised that she canvassed among the servant +class. She did not appraise them of the practical side +of it; in fact, of the masses, these were more able to buy. +She saw, as the Sundays went by, that much of the +display was a pretense. Many of those who expressed +such surprise were themselves unwilling to buy a book. +Always she found (and especially among the teachers, +whom she thought the most pretentious) some artful +excuse. Most of them had a library which contained +many books, but few by their own race. They had the +works of a poet who had died some years ago; they also +had a copy of a book or so by the principal of Tuskegee. +And then, one day she learned, from a most reliable and +unbiased source: "That those people bought the works +of the now dead poet, because his name had become a +fetish. The white people had accepted these men's work +and called them great. Therefore, the Negroes had +accordingly followed suit. So the Negro author must +first get a white audience, which will laud the greatness +of his pen, and then the Negroes will buy, calling the +book great also."</p> + +<p>Miss Latham found conditions thus, and governed her +work accordingly. But, as time went on, she met surprises. +They did not buy <i>The Tempest</i>, but they read it. +She found it borrowed among them all. They never +offered to buy it, but they read it nevertheless.</p> + +<p>She did not understand this at first.</p> + +<p>So she found the masses, often amusing, to say the +least, but often with more active race regard. They +had the many faults of ignorance; easy to influence into +giving an order, they were still more ready to back out, +lie out of taking it. Some of those who took orders, and +even the books, did not read, she learned. While others +could read, but did not; but when she told them all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +the story, the story of her hero, for now she held him +thus, they were all thrilled, and inspired. Thus it happened +that many bought the book because it was by a +Negro, and said as much.</p> + +<p>Mildred Latham succeeded in her work. And with her +success, there came to her each day, almost every hour, +thoughts of the one of her dreams. This day, and others +as well, she shuddered when she could not forget what +he had been told. It was worse, and more, because he +had been told the truth. It hurt her. He was somewhere, +and he didn't know that she loved him; but, +even if he did, he could not accept this knowledge with +any delight. No, he was out of her life, or, rather, she +was out of his. He would never, no never, be out of hers. +Never, because, as she felt every day, it was his memory +that stimulated her, made her feel and appreciate what +great good a life can do. And she did all she could, in +her way, to assist others. Some day, maybe, she might +be able to do more.</p> + +<p>When she undressed each night to retire, she fell on +her knees and offered thanks to Him that is Holy. She +asked for strength and conviction and courage to continue +in the same on the morrow. She struggled to lead +a Christian life, and to be acceptable in the eyes of her +Creator.... She was a believer.</p> + +<p>Mildred was welcomed everywhere, and treated with +all the courtesy due to a lady. When she left a house +one day, where two women had given her their order, +she overheard them say she was beautiful. She felt her +heart throbbing. She was not vain, but she loved to be +called attractive. Then she thought of him. He had +called her beautiful also. She wondered whether he, at +any time, forgot the words he heard, and remembered +her as he had seen her that day. The day they had +danced and he—kissed her. She seemed to feel still that +kiss; she hoped to feel it always. She wondered, if he +knew she was working in his memory and made happy +thereby, would he be pleased—and would he, at least, +try to forget as much as he could what he had been told. +He could, of course, not forget. That made it hard. +<i>She did not expect him to forget.</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>When the day's work was done, and she had returned +to her place of abode, she lay upon her bed, and for a +time, she gave up to thoughts of him. She knew not +where he was. She did not try to find out, that would +make it worse. Sometimes she felt that if she did, perhaps, +it might help her in her picture of him; then +again, she did not think it best. That might bring him +too conspicuously before her. Sometimes at night she +would suddenly awaken, and her very soul would be on +fire. She sat up at these times, and almost declared it +could not go on this way. She must know his whereabouts; +he must feel, know that she loved him. And +then, when the spell had died—was killed, for its death +was inevitable, she would lie down again and try to forget. +But she never succeeded in this.</p> + +<p>More than a month had passed since she came hither. +She had, with the assistance of Constance, sold more +than three hundred copies of the book. She had saved +the greater part of her earnings. She wondered, one day, +as she left a Negro bank, where she kept it, what he +would think of her, if he could know. She saw him +viewing her in many ways, as she was now. But always +she was left undecided. Never would what he had been +told, seem to leave her free and undisturbed.</p> + +<p>One day she returned home very much excited. She +didn't let Constance see her though. She had an adventure +that day. She encountered a man who looked +at her strangely, when she was offering the book. She +had seen him in Cincinnati; and she recognized him by +a scar on his forehead; but she had not known this +until she looked into his face, and asked him to give her +his order. Then he started. Did he recognize her? She +thought not, because she had not known he ever saw her, +when he used to pass by the house in Cincinnati, where +she then lived. When she recognized him this day, she +had bungled in her talk. This fact made him suspicious. +He regarded her with undisguised curiosity. Presently +his face cleared, and he said: "You remind me of a girl +I once used to see and know in Cincinnati. Where are +you from?" She tried to ignore this question; she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +pretended not to hear him. Despite this effort, she +choked. He observed it, and was convinced that she +was the one he had seen and known. Then she was +frightened, and, of course, did the worst thing she could +have done. She asked to be excused, and forthwith fled. +She had not gone many steps when she heard him mutter: +"Well, I'll be damned!" And still before she got beyond +the sound of his voice, she heard him again: "The +same. Wonder what kind of a game she is playing here. +Books. Hump! Well I'll be damned!"</p> + +<p>She didn't canvass any more that day. She couldn't. +She was too nervous and afraid. Then she was upset +for other days. She feared to meet him. She could +never again stand that gaze of suspicion. All that she +had lived suddenly stood before her when she recalled it. +Night came, and she retired early. The incident persisted +in her memory. She was exhausted, and then +she did what any unhappy girl is most likely to do. +She cried all night.</p> + +<p>Even if she felt Sidney Wyeth had closed the chapter +of her in his life, she wanted him. She <i>needed</i> him. To +have felt now that he loved her, in spite of what he had +heard, he could and would protect her. He stood before +her now and she saw him as she had never seen him +before. How strong and brave and courageous he was! +He was her hero. She went to sleep after a time, a +troubled, fitful sleep, and when she heard Constance +calling her the following morning, she awoke with a start +and was rested, although she could not understand how +it was possible. But she was calm. After all, she felt, +maybe, her fear was premature.</p> + +<p>She worked that day with her usual good spirits.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_NINE_2" id="CHAPTER_NINE_2"></a>CHAPTER NINE</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>But Smith Is Not His Real Name</i>"</p> + + +<p>Owen Beasely. That was his name, and Sidney met +him while waiting for a subscriber, who failed to show up. +He was a relative of Smith's, whom he had met the day +before. It was two P.M., the fourth day of July, and +the colored people, as well as the white, had retired to +a day of delight. It was hot, and clouds rolled up, white-capped +from the west. "It would rain before night," +the weather man said, and it did.</p> + +<p>"And so you came from the west," said Beasely, who +had been reading <i>The Tempest</i>. Wyeth had seen him +working behind the counter, and they put aside all +formality of introduction. Wyeth was glad to meet +someone to talk to that day. He had come out to this +suburb, under promise of subscribers to take the book. +And, since every one of them had retracted, he was discouraged, +which is a disagreeable feeling.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he replied gloomily, "and the day I return will +be one of great happiness. I am not particularly in love +with being down here anyhow; and the sooner I see the +plains again, that much sooner will I be happy and +contented."</p> + +<p>"Well," drawled the other lazily, "having been born +down here, and never having seen the rest of this great +domain, I do not, of course, know the difference; still, +I have always cherished a longing to go west. I intended +going to Oklahoma years ago, and getting in on some of +that government land they were giving away, but I put +it off until it was too late, and then too, I had trouble in +my family. My oldest daughter married a worthless +rascal who burdened her with those children you see +playing about the store, and I had to take care of them +and her too, since her marriage left her in bad health."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p> + +<p>The other listened without comment. Beasely, however, +went on, apparently in a mood to relate the past.</p> + +<p>"Smith has been telling me about you, and I have +been anxious to have a talk with you. Smith is my +brother-in-law, and he too, has had his share of trials."</p> + +<p>By this time, they had settled themselves on the porch +of an empty quarter house. Wyeth chanced to look +around, and, seeing so many empty ones, said: "How +does this come to be? So many empty houses?"</p> + +<p>"Bulgarians lived in this row," he said, pointing to +them. "Hundreds of them, and when the war broke out +in the Balkan states, every last one of them left here and +went back to fight, and have not returned."</p> + +<p>"Some patriotism, eh!" Wyeth commented.</p> + +<p>"It is singular about these foreigners," he said thoughtfully. +"Have you ever observed them?"</p> + +<p>The other nodded. Beasely went on.</p> + +<p>"They come to this country without knowing a word +of our language, and from a poor country. But they are +not here ten years, before they are able, financially, to +buy a car load of our people. Negroes are certainly a +problem to themselves. These foreigners always have +money, and many of them return to the old country and +retire, after a few years of just ordinary hard work here; +while many of our people at the same job, if they get sick +a week, are on the county.</p> + +<p>"Clerking in a store where the trade is of the kind we +have," he went on, "is an opportunity for the best study +in human nature you can possibly imagine. A man like +Smith, for instance, can succeed with the trade of his +people, when he can get it. Smith has succeeded on the +heels of his own failure."</p> + +<p>"It appears harder for one of us to succeed, than for +any other race now, doesn't it?" commented Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"It does, it does indeed," said Beasely. "Somehow the +money gets through our fingers, despite our efforts to +hold it."</p> + +<p>"This morning," said Sidney, "I had an experience +that amused me. I had the promise to take a book to a +certain fellow in Averytown. I called accordingly with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +the same, but he had just left. His family didn't, rather +couldn't tell me where I was likely to find him. I came +on up the street that leads here, and made inquiries on +the way. Every one who knew him gave me the same +advice. 'If,' they said, 'he is not home, just go to every +saloon between here and there, and you will be sure to +find him.' I did so, and found him at the second one."</p> + +<p>"And did he take it?" asked Beasely.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I hadn't thought of it since. No, he didn't take +the book—but I think he will. He had no money, and +when I approached him he went to the commissary, took +a scrip and got some groceries. These he took to somebody +and sold them, a dollar and a half worth for a +dollar. He then gave me a quarter, and told me to +bring it next pay day." After a moment he said: "Smith +is an exceptional business man for a Negro, and an interesting +man to talk to."</p> + +<p>"Yes," smiled the other; "but Smith is not his real +name. He took that after coming here. And since we +have spoken of it, I'm going to tell you the story of John +Smith, alias Thomas Rollins." He laughed as his voice, +very dramatic in what he had just said, came back to +him.</p> + +<p>The other listened, and prepared himself to do so comfortably, +while Beasely mopped his forehead, drew his +breath, and prepared to tell the following story.</p> + +<p>Beasely was a black man—a full blood—and intelligent. +Nearly fifty years he seemed to be, although, at a passing +glance, he would have passed for forty. He had been a +school teacher, and had some education, Wyeth had observed +from his careful use of English.</p> + +<p>"We lived in Palmetto, Georgia, where he married my +sister. He was then a farmer and pastor of the Baptist +church, while I farmed and taught the local country +school. He had been in politics quite actively in the +eighties and early nineties, as were many other Negroes +during the reconstruction period, and had served as postmaster +for four years. Now, in this town were what is +called a bunch of pet Negroes. These were coons whom +the white people used as local goats for their amusements.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +And, so to speak, they were a sort of privileged character, +but became too familiar. As everywhere in the south, +this town had its herd of the poor trash, that kept things +stirred up in the way of lynching and other lawlessness. +Considerable incendiarism had occurred of late, and some +of these pets were accused. Friction had been evident +for some time in this county and all around, and, with +this burning and accusations, a wholesale lynching took +place. About a dozen of these pets were herded into a +box car, and burned alive. It was the most diabolical +thing that could be perpetrated by human beings, and +created much comment all over the country. It drove +hundreds of Negroes out of the county, and you will find +them scattered over the rest of the state and other parts +now. Sometime after this, a strange Negro came to +town, and hung around Smith's place for a while. He +secured a job finally with a white man, who was one of +the men who led the mob. It seems, one day, he overheard +him relating how they burned the pets. This +crazed the Negro, or it might have been that one of the +victims was a brother of his, who knows. Well, this +Negro took an ax, marched into the room, and without +a word, split open the man's head.</p> + +<p>"He made his escape. Pandemonium reigned. Lynching +by hanging and burning at the stake became common, +and a general state of lawlessness reigned for some time.</p> + +<p>"Now, after this Negro had killed the man, he came +by Smith's and got the clothes Smith's cook had washed +for him. He threatened her with death if she ever said +anything about it. Well, a lot of the poor crackers had +become jealous of Smith anyhow, and they tried to implicate +him in it, while he knew nothing about it. Smith +stood well with the best white people; but when any +friction comes up in these parts, the cracker is supreme, +because he has the numbers. So, while the mob spirit +was still prevalent, they decided to give vent to their +jealousy, and called on Smith with a dark purpose. They +charged him with having furnished this Negro with an +ax and instructions to kill the cracker. So they were +on the way to see him, when I warned him at church one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +Sunday morning, preparing to preach a sermon. He +hurried home, grabbed a few things, and left the state as +fast as he could leave it.</p> + +<p>"That is how Smith came to be in this country and +doing business; but there is another part of this chapter, +and which brings us up to the present.</p> + +<p>"A Negro worked for Smith back there, and after the +thing had died out and people there saw that he was +wrongly accused, this Negro came on here, and since +then, this has been his home. Having known him back +there, Smith trusted him in the store here, and continued +to trust him until he was head over heels in debt to him. +There came a day when Smith was tired of this, and +called him to account. The Negro, then, instead of paying +like a man, or making an effort to do so, howled his +head off and was surprised, or professed to be. He told +Smith that he was repaid from the fact that he had kept +his mouth closed about his past, his changing his name, +and all that. In conclusion, he threatened to tell the +world, or that part of it in which Smith and himself were +known. Now, if Smith had told all this in the beginning, +it would, of course, have been different. But, having +deferred it so long, he naturally hated to have it told +and flaunted in his face by the Negroes here. You know, +too, how Negroes like to hear anything, envious and +spiteful as they are by nature. It was a nasty affair, and +to hush it up, Smith let the bill go hang. But this was +not to be the end of it by any means, oh, no! This +Negro had the nerve to come back into the store and ask +for more credit. Then Smith, with his nigga aroused, +stood his ground. The Negro then got drunk, fighting +drunk. He found an old revolver that had been lost for +years in a trash heap, and ran Smith all over town. It +wouldn't shoot, of course, but Smith didn't know that. +The crowd finally got around the Negro and held him, +while he raged and swore. Smith went to the phone, +declaring he was going to call the officers. The Negro +yelled that if he did—he knew. Smith desisted, but then +into it came my sister, his wife. She has spirit and was +now thoroughly aroused and with a big forty-five <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span>left-hand +wheeler, she sought this shine. When the people +that were holding him saw her coming, they turned him +lose and flew. When they did, she began to shoot, and +shot to hit. She missed; but she picked the dirt all +about him, and he did some running.</p> + +<p>"After that, the Negro—he had been doing fairly well +outside what I have mentioned—began to go down. +Whiskey and craps got all his money, and then he parted +with his wife. But he still had it in for Smith, and it had +come to Smith and me, too, that he intends telling it all +at the ball game, today. Moreover, that he will kill his +wife if she plays ball or attempts to, today. Smith's +nigga is up, and he is going to the ball game, and if that +Negro starts anything on that diamond, look out!"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid of these Negroes down here myself," said +Wyeth. "A few nights ago, I was standing on a corner +in Effingham, when one of them came up the street +slapping his wife or woman, or whatever she was, something +outrageously. I felt constrained to punch him in +the jaw, the brute, especially when she ran around a +bunch of us trying to escape the blows he was raining on +her face. I didn't, and some time later I was talking +with a cop that patrols that beat. I told him of the +incident. 'That's nothing,' he said. 'I started to punch +him,' I said. 'You'd better not punch any of these +Negroes,' he warned. 'They'll shoot you down like a +dog. This is Effingham.'"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Beasely, "I'm going to the game myself +to have a hand in the affair, if he starts anything. +Wanta go 'long?"</p> + +<p>Since he had nothing to do, he decided that it would +be a good outing and some diversion, so, rising, he followed. +As they started, a ragged, dirty Negro rushed +up. He wanted Beasely, being unable to locate Smith, +to let him have ten dollars to get his brother out of jail, +who had gotten into a squabble down in a saloon and got +run in.</p> + +<p>"Let him stay there until tomorrow, and we won't +have to get him out but once. If he is gotten out today, +he's liable to be in again before the day is spent," replied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> +Beasely carelessly. The other went his way with mutterings.</p> + +<p>They had not gone far before they came upon another. +He had a load, a heavy load. So heavy that he could +scarcely make it. However, with a superior effort, he +managed to drag his feet along, and join them.</p> + +<p>"Abe Thomas," remonstrated Beasely. "You are a +disgrace to yourself and the human race." The other +accepted the rebuke in good nature. He declared, that +since it was the fourth, he was entitled by the law of the +land to get drunk, and convince the public to that effect.</p> + +<p>"The fourth do'n' come but once a yeah," he said. +"But I'm a good guy all the time 'n' all the time. Fifty +years I've been in this world and don't look forty." He +didn't, which was an odd thing, thought Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"Say, Beasely, lend me a dollar!" he exclaimed. +Wyeth was again surprised; for Beasely, without a word, +but a laugh full of humor, drew forth a silver dollar, and +handed it over.</p> + +<p>As they walked along leisurely, Wyeth remarked +about the crops, which did not appear to be doing much +good in the highlands.</p> + +<p>"You know why that is?" said their companion, winking +wisely. "That's because all this land about here is +undermined, and the water goes on through."</p> + +<p>Wyeth looked at him. He looked back at Wyeth and +winked. "You are philosophical indeed," said he. "How +far is it to the mines below?"</p> + +<p>"Three hundred feet," Beasely replied.</p> + +<p>"And between that is all kinds of rock, hard pan and +shale?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sure," replied the other; "but what has that to +do with it?"</p> + +<p>Wyeth looked at him, but the other didn't gather what +the expression meant, so he said: "Jok, you are full." +They were passing into a cut, and he saw at a glance the +reason for the plant suffering. About two to six inches +from the surface was a thick layer of jip, which, as he +knew, prevented the water from going into the subsoil, +to come up when the sun had dried the surface, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +furnish nourishment to the roots. Further argument was +not necessary, for, as they came out of the cut, a saloon +smiled before them, and into this their companion disappeared.</p> + +<p>When they arrived at the grounds, thousands had +preceded them, and the same was black with people, +enjoying a holiday. The diamond had been cleared, and +preparations were in order for opening of the game. +The contestants were a set of school boys and girls, and +women, in fact, any girl or woman that could be prevailed +upon for the occasion. The sun, now in the west, could +be seen only at intervals, as it hung suspended above +the heavy treetops. The air was unusually still and +humid. The heat was intense; but, notwithstanding the +fact, the future American Negro seemed to be getting all +that a holiday afforded.</p> + +<p>Popcorn and cracker-jack, lemonade and coca-cola, +barbecue and fried fish, were being consumed by the +crowd in every direction in large quantities, and all +seemed to be happy.</p> + +<p>At last the preliminaries were over. The game was +called. On every base, in the pitcher's box, the catchers, +and in the field, stood black girls. Gayly they flitted +about, and caught the ball cleverly, as it was thrown +from one to the other.</p> + +<p>"Play ball!" called the umpire.</p> + +<p>Everyone had his eye upon the game. A strapping +woman, wound up like a professional, and let drive a +swift ball that went far to the right of a left hand batter.</p> + +<p>"Ba-l-l one!" cried the umpire.</p> + +<p>"Frow lak a ole maid," cackled a big-mouthed Negro, +who was immediately hooted down.</p> + +<p>"St-r-i-k-e one!" cried the umpire, slapping his thigh, +giving vent to a big laugh, as the batter swung wildly +at the ball just missed.</p> + +<p>"Dat gal's got some speed, b'lieve muh!" cried another +Negro, who was a good support.</p> + +<p>"Who dat gal?" inquired another, at this point.</p> + +<p>"Do'n you know 'er?" someone else replied. "Dat's +Bobb Lee's wife. Dey is pa'ted, y' know."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p> + +<p>Wyeth started. Bobb Lee's wife! Bobb Lee was the +Negro Beasely had told him about.... And he had +threatened to kill her if she played ball this day. She +was playing. He felt a strange pulling at his nerves as +he watched her, and his imagination began to play. He +was afraid of these Negroes. Even if they did nothing, +they could, so far as he had learned, be depended upon +to commit murder. No one, perhaps, paid much attention +to a Negro's threat; but he didn't feel just right in +the stomach. A chilly feeling was creeping upward and +held him. He looked about him. For a moment he had +forgotten the game. The men were now on the bases, +while the girls were swinging in many ways at the ball. +The wife of Bobb Lee was there at the bat. Around him +the crowd watched her closely, expectantly. He did likewise.</p> + +<p>"B-a-l-l one!" cried the umpire. The woman was a +stout Negress, with square, broad hips, and was conspicuous +in the green uniform. Two balls and one strike +were against her, when the fourth came whizzing across +the plate. She struck it with terrific force, that sent it +just over the heads of all and beyond the fielders, making +a clean home run, as well as bringing in two girls that +were on bases. The cheering that followed was deafening. +For a time Sidney forgot the threats of the bad Negro.</p> + +<p>Again the wife of Bobb Lee was pitching. More speed +had developed since last she held the ball, and she was +apparently more clever. She hurled the ball across the +plate so swiftly, that the crowd could hardly see it, nor +could the batters, whom, one by one she fanned. Two +balls and two strikes she had on the last one. Wyeth's +gaze, wandering across the diamond, observed John +Smith standing to the other side, and again the words +of Beasely came to his memory. He wished the thought +and the threat would not so persist. He tried to concentrate +his mind on the game, but the words lingered. +During his whole life, Sidney now recalled, he was +peculiarly given to predestination. If he had not seen +anyone he had known for some time, and happened to +meet him, he could always recall that he had just thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +of him a few days before, or it might have been only a +few hours before. Strangely, as he watched the game, +there came to him a premonition that something was +going to happen. He felt it so strongly that he stood +waiting for it. It was only a question of a little while.</p> + +<p>The wife of Bobb Lee had raised her arm and was +winding up for the last throw, when suddenly, from +across the field in the crowd, came a cry as of some one +mad, enraged. In the still, humid air, the cry of a woman +resounded, and fell upon the ears of the crowd like a cry +of death. There was a shot, and so quiet did every one +appear at the moment, that the noise it made sounded +like a cannon. A woman rushed upon the diamond, and +fell prone on her face, with a last scream that disturbed +the quiet.</p> + +<p>Clouds had been gathering overhead for some time, +and now they overcast the skies. The sunlight, with all +its brightness of a few minutes ago, had faded; it became +so dark that the people could scarcely see across the +diamond. Heavy peals of thunder added now to the +darkness, while flashes of lightning struck electrically all +about. The crowd stood awestruck. The woman in the +box had lowered her arm, and was looking wild-eyed at +the woman who had fallen prostrate at her feet. And +then, through the still air came again the cry of the +beast.</p> + +<p>"Ah tole yu' 'f yu' played ball ag'in ah'd kill yu'. +Ah've killed yu' doity sista, in the' stands you, 'n' the' +is John Smith who run away frum Palmetto, Geo'gi', 'n' +whose real name's Tom Rollins!" And with that, the +woman gave a long lingering cry that frightened all those +about. They turned in one great mass, the revolver +sounded another shot, and with scarcely a groan, the +woman staggered for a moment, and fell to the ground +dead. For just a second it seemed, the crowd, tearing +wildly about, halted and turned their eyes upon the two +dead women. And as they did so, the murderer turned +wildly in the direction of where Smith had stood, but he +was gone. In a blind fury, the drunken brute whirled +around dazed, yelling: "Wha' is he! Damn him! Wha' +is he!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm heah, you beast!" roared Smith, in a terrible +voice. The other had just time to see him, but too late +to do further murder. John Smith was on him in an +instant, and all the strength of his powerful frame +seemed to come to him in that moment. He snatched +the smoking weapon from the hand of the brute, and, +raising it to the length of his large arm, while the other, +at last sensitive to the moment, saw it as it lingered one +brief instant, with eyes, the sight of which Sidney Wyeth +did not soon forget, it fell, crushing the skull. A mad +herd now, the crowd rushed upon the fallen creature +and did the rest.</p> + +<p>Just then the heavens opened up with a mighty crash +of thunder, and there came a flash of lightning that made +trees tremble, while the rain came down in torrents.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Sidney returned to the city by the first car. The +incident rose before him again and again, as the car +crept along in the downpour. He had seen the first +murder of his life, which, however, was an almost daily +occurrence in Effingham. When he reached his room +and related the incident, it caused less excitement than +when he once witnessed a gambling raid and related it. +No one took murder seriously in Effingham.</p> + +<p>"They kill a nigga every day on an average in this +town," grinned Moore. When he read the papers the +following morning, he had about given up finding it at +all, when his eyes came across a small paragraph in the +corner, reporting that a drunken Negro had killed his +wife and sister-in-law, which added to the list of casualties, +making eleven for the day in Effingham. All were +homicides. No deaths from other sources were reported.</p> + +<p>As Sidney Wyeth now saw it, the people might have +prosperity, and they might have happiness; likewise, +they might suffer reverses and be in hard straights for a +time; but of one thing there seemed a certainty, that as +long as whiskey was available, crime would be prevalent +in Effingham.</p> + +<p>Sidney Wyeth had never voted for prohibition. As he +saw it now in Attalia, where it was not sold legally, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +in Effingham, where it had this permit, there seemed but +one conclusion. Only when they stopped making it, +would these ignorant, semi-barbarous creatures quit +drinking it.</p> + +<p>And thus we find conditions in one of our great American +cities, where there is forty per cent of illiteracy +among two-fifths of the populace.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Having sent for a considerable consignment of books, +and, due to the inability to collect from a number who +spent their money on the fourth, Sidney found his finances +depleted. Room rent, by paying in advance was due the +following Monday, so, taking himself to one of his subscribers +among the servants, he was able to collect only +a dollar that day. Half of this he divided with his landlady, +promising to pay her the remainder on the morrow. +He did so, but John Moore desired to question in regard +to the same. The truth of it was that John Moore +wanted the dollar, and had figured on it, in order to +shoot craps on Saturday night, as was his usual custom. +So John came into the room where Sidney sat reading. +It happened that Wyeth was in no pleasant frame of +mind, and, calling was thus not in order that evening. +Perhaps John Moore did not know this, but he did a +few minutes later. He wished to know what Wyeth was +going to do about the rent.</p> + +<p>Wyeth looked at him. It wasn't a very pleasant look, +to say the least. And Wyeth was one of these creatures +who could not stand to be dunned. Since he had already +made arrangement with the real person, he regarded +Moore out of eyes now that narrowed with anger. He +said something, sharp and quick, and stinging. Thereupon, +a storm ensued.</p> + +<p>"I aised you a civil question," complained Moore.</p> + +<p>"And I tell you that I have already arranged with the +landlady regarding the rent, and don't want any argument +with you!"</p> + +<p>"Then I ais you to git yo' things and get out!" cried +Moore, with an air of finality.</p> + +<p>"And I tell you that I will do no such thing; more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>over, +you, insofar as I'm concerned," cried Wyeth heatedly, +"can go to Hell!"</p> + +<p>"Look out, look out!" cried Moore. "I'm a-comin', +I'm a-comin'."</p> + +<p>"Not very fast as I can see, standing there in the doorway," +said Wyeth, now composed, and reseating himself +from where he had risen. And yet he felt, as he had +never felt before, like fighting—with his fists.</p> + +<p>"Hole me Mary, hole me!" cried Moore, moving +many ways—in the doorway. The other waited—in vain.</p> + +<p>"Come ova' he' from Attalia, a bad nigga, 'n' tellin' +me what I ain' go'n do 'n' mah house!" he cried, now +derisively. "Stay! Yes, stay, 'n' be killed, 'cause 'f you +sleep in this house t'night, you go'n sleep ova' mah dead +body."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you're an awful liar," smiled Sidney grimly. +He arose from his chair and moved in the direction of +Moore, whereupon that worthy moved in the opposite +direction. "A Negro like you ain't going to fight anyone, +and talk about your dead body! Hump! If you +had any idea I was going to kill you, you'd be a mile +away by this time and still running. As it is, I am +going to stay in this house until I get ready to leave, or +at least until I am ordered out by the landlady." With +this, he jumped forward quickly and caught Moore by +the nose, which was, to say the least, a difficult task. +He pinched it hard, and then, with well directed licks, +he slapped his face with his open palm. Then, giving +his nose another pinch that made the creature scream +with pain, he pushed him with such force that he fell +backward into the other room. A moment later, Sidney +slammed the door, and, resuming his seat, picked up +the book and began reading.</p> + +<p>They were good friends ever after.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TEN_2" id="CHAPTER_TEN_2"></a>CHAPTER TEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>When You Have Been Grass-Widowed, It's Different</i>"</p> + + +<p>"Oh, is it Mr. Wyeth? How-do, Mr. Wyeth. Come +right in and be seated. I shall be in presently." Whereupon, +for the fraction of a second, Miss Palmer gave him +a smile that was bewitching.</p> + +<p>It was Sunday, and a beautiful cool day in July. A +rain had fallen the night before, which made the air cool +and radiant. Just a day for an outing. To go forth +into the forest on a day like this, in company with the +lady of his choice, was a pleasure all men could wish. +And to go forth today, to the forest about Effingham, +which could be seen from almost any part of the city, +was, to say the least, a treat. From the summit of any +of the many points, the observer could gaze down full +upon all that makes Effingham.</p> + +<p>And it was for such a purpose that Sidney Wyeth +called upon Miss Annie Palmer that day.</p> + +<p>Miss Palmer had been good to him. And he, a man of +experience and adversities, was not the kind of man to +be indifferent to her courtesy. And, besides, Miss Palmer +was fairly well endowed with the art of making it pleasant. +Especially was this so when it happened to be a +young man who had captivated her, and, apparently, +without any effort on his part.</p> + +<p>It is said that curiosity is the inspiration of invention, +and that women, although with no great record as inventors, +cannot stand to be held in doubt. Sidney +Wyeth had aroused Miss Palmer. It was whispered that +other men had done so before, but no one spoke ill of +Miss Palmer. It was so told here and there that she +desired to marry. Miss Palmer found it difficult to keep +Sidney out of her thoughts; daily, hourly and, sometimes +she sighed, it seemed minutely. So, when he had sug<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span>gested +an outing, she had accepted with all the grace of +which she was capable. It had been arranged for this +day. She had worked hard every day preceding it, and +had sold a number of books. As we now know, Miss +Palmer was the mother of a very young son, and she +had always had to work to care for him, herself, and her +mother, who was somewhat of an invalid. Perhaps this +was the best excuse Miss Palmer had for not having remarried. +It was a plausible one, no one could deny. It +sufficed to arouse sympathy for her, and she had many +friends who unhesitatingly spoke of her in such terms.</p> + +<p>"Miss Palmer has a hard time," said one.</p> + +<p>"What kind of a deal—that is, what kind of a husband +was the man she married?"</p> + +<p>"A half white nigga from Ohio, whose parents made +him mistreat her, because she was not brighter in color. +They never forgave him for marrying anything but a +'high yellow.' So they, through their treatment of her, +snubbing her whenever they could, simply broke them +up. She was a good girl," so everybody said about Miss +Palmer, "and she worked night and day to help him, +but he drank. His parents kept up the game of spoiling +him, even after he was the father of her child. So, in +the end, when there was nothing else for her to do, she +had asked for, and was duly granted a divorce. That +ended it. The school board, although they were overrun +with applications from multitudes of colored girls, +to teach in the city schools (because teaching is about +the only thing they can get to do to make some money +and a living for themselves), had reinstated her, and she +went back to teaching, after four years of unhappy +married life."</p> + +<p>It was thus Sidney Wyeth had found her. Miss Palmer +was a human being with a heart that cried silently for +the love of a man, as all other women's hearts do, who +happen not to be so fortunate as to have one. She had +been to school, and graduated from a normal academy, +that taught English as far as it goes, and, likewise, compelled +the girls to learn how to cook, sew and save. Miss +Palmer was mistress in all these arts, and some more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +It was her delight to show them by a demonstration, +whenever she could. She had proven all this to Sidney +Wyeth, and he had thought it practical in her. He had +said as much, but he would have said as much to any +other, no doubt. And of the many good things we now +know of Miss Palmer, let us not forget that she was +selfish to a degree.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, many of us are. But when Miss Palmer +became the recipient of such kind words from the lips +of this man of mystery, for as such she regarded him, +and believed it, she was subtly delighted. So she had +done all she could as a saleswoman of the book she was +positive he had written, to prove further her ability to +help him. (?) Today they would be all alone, together. +She had looked forward to the same with all the anxiety +of the anxious, and the day had come at last. And such +a day!</p> + +<p>She dressed in her best for the occasion. We shall not +attempt to describe her; but when she appeared at the +end of an hour, she was a delight to observe. "Indeed!" +exclaimed Wyeth frankly, "I didn't know you could +look so well!"</p> + +<p>"Why are you flat?" she complained, with a frown; +and then she added softly: "You could be otherwise."</p> + +<p>"We will catch the Tidewater and get off at Jewell +Junction, and take the Relay. That will take us to the +summit of Baldin Knob. From there you can see everything +this state possesses for fifteen miles," she said, as +they walked cheerfully in the direction of the car line.</p> + +<p>Never had either experienced such a delightful ride, as +the heavy tidewater cars gave them that morning. The +Relay unloaded them forty minutes later at the highest +peak of which the Red Mountains boast. Below lay +Effingham, the iron city, a medley of smoke and many +little points. Only the blast of the furnaces, and the +heavy smoke they belched forth, met their gaze, as they +saw it now. It seemed hardly possible that it was a +city of so many thousands, it seemed so small at this +distance. A mass of uneven timber appeared all about +and below them, and far away were a thousand peaks.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +Broken by hundreds of ravines and draws, that split and +tore the mighty range, they saw the city beyond. A +dull haze as of Indian summer hung in the distance, as +their gaze sought the horizon.</p> + +<p>Then they walked down a slope to a spot they had +seen. She stepped on a rock that lay buried beneath +many leaves, and turned her ankle so severely, that he +feared it had been sprained. It hadn't; but, as a precaution, +he took her arm, and that, perforce, brought +them closer together. Thus they walked, until, at the +foot of a pine, lay a fallen tree conveniently. They sat +themselves thereon, and, leaning their backs against the +tree, for a minute, possibly more, they heard their own +breathing.</p> + +<p>After saying many things that meant nothing, she said:</p> + +<p>"Now, you are going to tell me all about yourself +today, aren't you?" She ended this beautifully, and +waited likewise. His reply was not gallant, if such it +could be; but he merely added:</p> + +<p>"There is little to tell, Miss Palmer—so little, I'm +sure telling it would be dull for you to listen to."</p> + +<p>"You have beautiful ways of saying anything," she +said, and gave him her best smile. He looked at her +now, but without any apparent enthusiasm. His smile +was a little tired and weary and sad. Very often he was +this way.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," Miss Palmer now said, "you have +impressed me wonderfully."</p> + +<p>"I didn't, I'm sure; but you are complimentary." +He was now a mite more cheerful. "In what way, I beg, +have I impressed you? In that I can sell books?"</p> + +<p>"I don't mean that, and you know I do not," she +pouted. "And you can be so innocent, when you want +to be. Oh, you are artful. But I mean, if I must say it +and then explain why, there is something about you +that is unusual. You are in disguise, going through the +country studying people, yes, people and what they are, +have been and are likely to be." She was thoughtful +now, as she sat in serious mood for some time. Presently, +she said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I've been reading that book, and, of course, I understand +you better. Is all that you say in it true?" +She was serious now, and anxious too. She waited eagerly +for him to speak.</p> + +<p>He laughed. Then he said nothing in the affirmative, +but indulged in words concerning other topics.</p> + +<p>"You are more than a book agent. You have, at +least, been a man of means. Really, I would be pleased +to know from your own lips," she now sighed.</p> + +<p>"I wish we could talk of something else, that would +be more interesting. Cannot you suggest something?" +he turned to her now appealingly.</p> + +<p>"I cannot. Yourself is the most interesting thing I +care to talk about. I have been thinking of the terrible +secret you disclose in the book. Won't you please tell +me if it is all true?"</p> + +<p>"I suppose if <i>the</i> book is published as a true story, +then it must be so," he said evasively.</p> + +<p>"And she was a weak woman. No strength and conviction; +nothing to protect a home. You and she will +not remain as you are, will you?" Silence. "There is +nothing the matter with you—and her. I sympathize +with <i>this fellow</i>." Miss Palmer was more serious now. +"Because, apparently, he wanted, tried to do the right +thing, and was not allowed.... I know somebody else +that wished to do likewise, and was not allowed.... +Life is a strange thing, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed so," he agreed.</p> + +<p>"And on this pilgrimage you study the lives of others, +many others, and it reveals so much to you that would, +could not be possible, otherwise?"</p> + +<p>He agreed with her again.</p> + +<p>"And on this pilgrimage you have met <i>women</i>, and you +have studied them and their way of seeing things?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly. They are all in the same category."</p> + +<p>"Yes; but somebody said: 'I bet that fellow has <i>so</i> +many girls!' I didn't agree with them. I don't think +you have any; you are too preoccupied to give them +serious thought. Perhaps that is why the girl allowed +herself to be taken away...."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> + +<p>He now looked at her. His lips, for one moment, had +started to speak, and then he seemed to think better of +it, and said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Everyone I sell the book to cries when they have +read it: 'If I had been that fellow, I'd have kicked that +old preacher into Hades.' It's what you tell in the last +part of the book that arouses the people. But they all +think <i>he</i> acted with poor judgment in the end; but if <i>he</i> +hadn't allowed that to come to pass, I would never have +known you." Miss Palmer was tantalizing.</p> + +<p>"Out in this <i>Rosebud Country</i>, of which the story is +told, are there no colored people?"</p> + +<p>"None."</p> + +<p>"I should think it would be dreadfully lonesome."</p> + +<p>"Why so? The white people are kind and sociable."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but I would prefer my kind. Still, I suppose +if one lived there and had their all there, it would be +different."</p> + +<p>"Yes," he agreed, "it would be different."</p> + +<p>"You will, no doubt, marry one of the many girls +you meet before you return, and then live happily ever +afterwards."</p> + +<p>"That is nice to listen to. Nice girls, that is, girls who +are willing to sacrifice to an end that would help both, +are, to say the least, hard to find."</p> + +<p>"Yes, in a sense; but there are plenty. And all want +husbands. Of course, when you have been widowed, +grass-widowed, it's different...."</p> + +<p>"Well, yes; but I see no reason, if she is the right +kind of girl, why she cannot re-marry and be happy in +the end."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you don't," she essayed. "Well, there is. A +woman is never regarded as the same. The looks she +gets are not like the ones bestowed upon her when she, +or before she married. They are looks—looks that are +not honest," she sighed. He was silent.</p> + +<p>"And the men are the cause of it. All of it. Sometimes +I hate men."</p> + +<p>He saw her now, calmly. She was uneasy under the +look he gave her. And then he was silent again. She +went on:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course, there are some that are different. Yourself, +for instance."</p> + +<p>"In what way?"</p> + +<p>"So many I hardly like to say. So unassuming, for +one. And then you—oh I won't say it."</p> + +<p>"Please do."</p> + +<p>"Not until you have told me more about yourself. +Has it occurred to you that you have told me nothing, +absolutely nothing about yourself?" She was looking at +him now. He winced.</p> + +<p>"Of course, if a woman is—is—well, easy enough to +go into the mountains and on an outing with the man—a +man who has told her nothing of himself, then, it—he +cannot be censured." She watched a pine squirrel now +that played near, and who regarded them out of eyes +that made Miss Palmer feel guilty.</p> + +<p>"You are like a stone wall when it comes to secrets. +Did you ever really love anyone?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you don't mean it!" she cried in feigned surprise. +"Who was it?"</p> + +<p>"You would be no wiser if I told you."</p> + +<p>At this moment, a blast in a mine near, which they +did not see, went off. It broke the silence so sharply, +that both sat quickly upright. In doing so, their hands +met. His clasped hers. In a moment the tension was +released, but the hands were not. Slowly their hands +clasped each others tighter. He was in some way conscious +of the fact, while she was dreamy. He looked by +chance into her eyes, and they were more dreamy still. +Their shoulders touched. She sat at his left, and it +happened singularly to be his right hand that held hers. +In that moment they seemed to feel lonely, very lonely. +Both had suffered—and, to a degree, their suffering had +been similar. To give up and to be human, unconventionally +so for just a little while, seemed a mad desire. +She swayed perceptibly. Suddenly his left arm stole +about her waist and encircled her body. Mechanically +he looked down, and into her eyes, that were upturned. +They seemed to tell the secret behind. To be loved for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +one minute was what they asked. He lingered a moment, +and then his head went down. When it had retained its +former position and was erect, he had kissed Miss Palmer.</p> + +<p>He was standing now, and was looking down upon +Effingham. It lay silent and gray from where he saw it. +In that moment he wanted to be back there. He felt +guilty. He turned and beheld Miss Palmer. He felt +more guilty than before. She lay against the tree with +her face turned the other way. He felt very sorry for +her then. Yes, Miss Palmer would, he believed, do the +right thing. <i>She would be glad</i> to do the right thing. +Oh, she had had her troubles. And Sidney Wyeth knew +that when people had suffered, especially when it had +been their great ambition to do the right thing and be +happy, they would go through eternity to make happiness +possible. He spoke now.</p> + +<p>"Don't you think we had better be going, Miss +Palmer?" She heard him, and his voice was kind, she +thought. She rose, and together they went back over +the hill and caught the Relay.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ELEVEN_2" id="CHAPTER_ELEVEN_2"></a>CHAPTER ELEVEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>I'm Worried About Mildred</i>"</p> + + +<p>"Wilson, I'm worried. I'm worried about Mildred. +Something is haunting that girl. Something has been +haunting her for days. She says nothing, of course; but +I can see, I can't help but see. She is worried almost to +insanity." So Constance said to her brother, some days +after Mildred met the man who saw her in Cincinnati.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what it can be," said he, thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"I'd give anything to know," she sighed. "The +only thing I know is that she is worried. I dare not ask +her. She is not inviting in her demeanor, when it comes +to confidences. She seems to be looking for something, +simply uneasy always, and hesitant. Some days, she +seems to dislike to go canvassing; in fact, for some time +now, she has been nervous every time she ventures out."</p> + +<p>"I wonder whether it would not be advisable to ask +her to lay off a few days."</p> + +<p>"I have thought of that," said she; "but she has so +many deliveries to make that she is almost compelled to +go out every day. And then, if what she fears is to +happen, I'm sure she would be more worried if she +stayed in."</p> + +<p>"I'm willing to do anything to help Mildred." She +looked at him, but they were both too preoccupied to +take notice of the fact that he had called her by her +first name.</p> + +<p>"The only time I can seem to get her away from +that worried, tired expression, is when I play. She +listens and becomes, at least for a time, oblivious to her +troubles."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>By day, Mildred, when she was canvassing, hourly +expected to meet again the man whose recognition had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +frightened her. But the days went by without further +encounter, and when she failed to meet him, she began +to relax. She was worried constantly, but she was +relieved after two weeks. The fright had passed, and she +was cheerful again, much to the relief of her two friends. +It had pained her to see that both were obviously worried +on her account. And she respected them, because they +were considerate enough not to ask her questions that +would have annoyed her.</p> + +<p>"You sang that beautifully, Miss Latham," said +Wilson, one afternoon, when she left the piano, after +singing a song that had been introduced lately into +church services; and which, while sentimental, nevertheless +possessed more thrill than the average.</p> + +<p>"Do you think I can satisfy the congregation now?" +she asked sweetly. She had been practicing it for several +afternoons.</p> + +<p>"I should say you could," he cried, enthusiastically. +"You could satisfy any congregation, much less our +little crowd." He looked sorrowful, as he said this. She +understood. The great majority did not attend his +services. They went to the big Baptist church two +blocks away. Many of them even smiled, when they +passed his little church and observed the few people +sitting therein. Mildred sympathised with him, because +she realized that he was a courageous young man, willing +to go to any extent, so far as effort was concerned, in +order to help those about him. They needed it too, +these black people.</p> + +<p>"Oh," she cried, so kind that he choked, "you will +have a larger church some day. I am confident you +will—I <i>know you will</i>." And she meant all she said. "In +time the people will come to appreciate your efforts. +As it is now, they don't think deep enough to do so. +They want sermons, as yet, that make them feel by +merely listening; whereas, it is necessary to study what +you say.... That makes it difficult now. When the +people become more intelligent, more practical, and more +thoughtful, they will appreciate religion in a practical +sense." He was overwhelmed with gratitude, as he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +heard these words. For a moment he couldn't speak. +He felt the tears come.</p> + +<p>"You are so kind, Miss Latham. You seem to understand, +and see below the surface. And what you have +said is timely. I am one, you may be sure, who appreciates +it." He stopped here.</p> + +<p>A choking, which he didn't wish her to notice, made it +necessary. She was aware of the gratitude, the sincere +gratitude in his tone, and her sympathy went out to him +more than ever. As she saw him sitting there, with head +bowed and face hid, he seemed his mother's boy. She +felt strangely that other part. Impulsively, she advanced +to where he sat by the window, with the sunlight streaming +in upon him. In the bright, soft light, his curly hair +shone, and seemed more beautiful than she had noticed +it before. She laid her hand upon it. An hour ago, she +would not, could not have dreamed she would do this. +And then she spoke in words, the kindest, he felt, he had +ever heard.</p> + +<p>"There, now. It will be all right. Just give yourself +time. Oh, it's a great struggle, this human problem. +All these black ones of ours. But you are pursuing the +right course, and some day they will see it. Then will +come your success. It's going to come. It will come. +It <i>must</i> come. These people can't keep on going along +as they are; this crime—murder. It's terrible. Someone +will help to stem the tide of it, someone will lead +them. They need leaders. They are not bad people, +with all we see and now know of them. They simply +need some one to lead them into the light. I feel you +will be that person. Yes. I am sure you are the person." +She paused a moment, and it was only then, she +became aware that her hand still rested upon his head. +She removed it now, and silently left the room.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"I love her! I love her!" cried Wilson Jacobs. "Oh, +God lead me, for I know not whither I go!"</p> + +<p>It was the first time in his thirty-one years that Wilson +Jacobs had felt so. But he was a man. And the fact +made him respect Mildred Latham the more. Not for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> +anything would he have her know his secret after this. She +had thought of him in no other way but to help him. +That was all. He would have to go forth now with a +secret from Constance even.</p> + +<p>He studied his text for the coming Sunday, and prepared +himself to preach as he had never preached before.</p> + +<p>"Here is an example of how much our people down +here desire a Y.M.C.A., Miss Latham," said Reverend +Jacobs later. "You may recall that, last spring the +colored people of Grantville (which had a population, in +the last census, of one hundred ten thousand people, +almost forty thousand being colored), made a great campaign +to secure a Y.M.C.A." He laid before her a +Negro journal, published weekly at Grantville. She +picked it up and read the whole article.</p> + +<p>It went into detail concerning the campaign that was +made to secure a Y.M.C.A. for the colored youth of +Grantville. She had been interested in the campaign +and knew that in a few days, thirty-three thousand +dollars and more had been subscribed. The publishing +house that printed this paper, had issued a daily of +sixteen pages during the campaign, and had heralded the +spirit of the colored people in their liberality. They had +been liberal indeed, but it was only in subscribing. The +paying was different, quite different.</p> + +<p>After six months, only something over four thousand +dollars of that amount had been paid in. The building, +equipped, would cost one hundred thousand dollars. A +millionaire Jew, the head of one of the greatest mail +order houses in the country, would give twenty-five +thousand dollars. The white Y.M.C.A. gave an equal +amount. From other sources, seventeen thousand dollars +were forthcoming. The colored people were expected to +raise the remainder. It had been oversubscribed, but +only four thousand had been paid in. Six months had +passed, and she knew (although the paper was optimistic +and had no other thought, apparently, than that the +colored people would raise the amount) subscriptions +would be paid slower now than before. She did not +know what to say when she had read the article.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you realize what they are up against?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said resignedly.</p> + +<p>"And they do not seem to know it."</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"It's discouraging."</p> + +<p>She nodded.</p> + +<p>"It would be no trick at all for any of a dozen churches +in the town to raise four thousand dollars in sixty days in a +rally." She remained silent but listened, and knew that +he spoke the truth.</p> + +<p>"They have hundreds of churches all over the south, +that have cost, in actual money, one hundred thousand +dollars, and they have paid the amount without assistance +from other sources; whereas, the white people are +offering sixty thousand dollars of this amount."</p> + +<p>"And, I gather," said she, in a voice that was listless, +"that Grantville, with its many schools and much more +intelligent colored people, is far more likely to succeed +in such an effort than this town."</p> + +<p>He nodded.</p> + +<p>"But this place needs it, it needs it badly. It needs +a Y.M.C.A. worse than any town in the south—"</p> + +<p>"In the world," he insisted.</p> + +<p>"And you do not think it would be worth while to +inaugurate a campaign for that purpose here, before +long?"</p> + +<p>He sighed sadly, and then grew thoughtful.</p> + +<p>"Last week, the number of murders exceeded any +previous week for two years...."</p> + +<p>"And over one hundred Negro churches have preaching +in them every Sunday."</p> + +<p>"And from what I can learn, these murders are rarely +mentioned, in any."</p> + +<p>"I have been thinking for a long time—before you +came—of a Y.M.C.A. for our people in this town, but +I have never spoken of it. But since I have known and +talked with you, Miss Latham, and have seen the way +our people are conducting themselves, I have been constrained +to take up the effort of securing one." He said +this very calmly, with no undue excitement.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have you, Mr. Jacobs?" She made no attempt to +use the clerical term. Her tone was eager, anxious.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he repeated. "I have decided to begin at once, +regardless of the discouraging spectacle of Grantville."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad," she sighed, relieved.</p> + +<p>He looked at her, but said nothing. He knew that she +would be glad to hear it. He was glad, though, that +she had spoken.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he resumed. "I have discussed the matter +with the heads of three of the big trunk lines operating +in and out of this town, and all of whom have shops +here that hire black men, and, as you might, of course, +expect, they are all in favor of it. They have, moreover, +advised me that they will bring such a movement +to the attention of the board of directors. They have +further advised me, however, that I must not expect to +exceed five thousand dollars from either, and not to be +disappointed if the board failed to give anything at all. +That, they explained, and I understood without explanation, +was due to the financial conditions of the +railroads. I have met the same response from other +local interests. But by them all, I have been encouraged. +Of course, the white Y.M.C.A. are agreeable to giving +assistance as in other towns, and have given me to understand +that they will put in twenty-five thousand dollars. +And then the Chicago philanthropist, of course, has a +like amount awaiting. But the time limit expires in six +months."</p> + +<p>"From these, I have gone to our people."</p> + +<p>"You went?" She held her breath now.</p> + +<p>"To those others, the preachers."</p> + +<p>"And they were——"</p> + +<p>"Against it, almost to a man."</p> + +<p>"God be merciful!"</p> + +<p>"Of course, all of them did not say so in so many +words—in fact, as you might expect, 'Yes, brother, this +town sure needs a Y.M.C.A,' But when cooperation +was suggested to that end, quibbling began. Most of +them, not a bit original, put forward the same excuse, +<i>too</i> busy. All were preachers, yet too busy to save souls.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +Then, of course, the next excuse was their church was +loaded up with debt; they were now preparing a rally +to raise such and such an amount. And still others had +just closed a rally, which meant their flock was strapped +and would be until another rally. And there are three +churches in this very town that cost equally as much as +this thing, all told.</p> + +<p>"Next, I tried the teachers. The professors, of course, +were full of the idea. I found only two, however, who +had paid enough attention to the effort in Grantville, +to know that the people were likely not to succeed. +These, I was glad to hear, spoke of this fact, and we +then discussed the matter from a serious point of view."</p> + +<p>"Have you not found ignorance a great stumbling +block?" she inquired.</p> + +<p>"The greatest, in a measure, I think. To be ignorant +means, that they will be easily discouraged, when they +discover the obstacles."</p> + +<p>"When do you intend beginning the campaign?"</p> + +<p>"Sunday. I have prepared a speech to that end for +that day, but, of course, I would have to concentrate a +greater effort before it can be started with any effect. +I have, however, prepared an article, rather, several +articles, and which the newspapers, the white dailies, +have agreed to publish conspicuously. But before we +can expect much from the white people, we will ourselves +have to show greater activity. That is where the hard +part comes. It is hard to arouse the local leaders to any +appreciation of such a thing. There is so much surface +interest, and so little heart enthusiasm. So many will +say a lot of sweet things that mean nothing, not even an +effort to be serious. But I shall open the campaign +Sunday, and I was thinking of asking your assistance in +singing and playing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'd be only too glad to help in any way I know +how, but that is so little," she said bashfully.</p> + +<p>"We will start only in a small way. I have thought +it best to begin with my congregation. I have been to +them all, and have already secured liberal subscriptions, +all of whom paid a part of it in cash. This I will employ<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +as a means of stimulating others. So Sunday, at three +P.M., I will lecture on it and ask subscriptions, detailing +first those who have already subscribed."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"What is my balance, please," inquired Mildred the +next afternoon, at the window of the paying teller.</p> + +<p>"One hundred fifty," said the cashier, who looked surprised.</p> + +<p>"I wish to withdraw it. And you may make it into a +draft, payable to the colored Y.M.C.A."</p> + +<p>His mouth opened slightly. He regarded her with a +different look, and then did as she instructed.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>A fairly good crowd greeted Wilson Jacobs, when he +got up to speak on the proposed campaign for a colored +Y.M.C.A. To cheer the listeners, he asked Miss +Latham to play and sing the song she had practiced, and +which was new to the congregation. She did so, with all +the art of which she was capable, and was pleased, when +she turned to face the audience, that she had given both +pleasure and satisfaction. Her eyes wandered over them +for a moment, and then rested upon someone she had +seen before.</p> + +<p>"Where was it," she mused, in a half whisper. Wilson +Jacobs was speaking. For two hours he spoke in behalf +of the Christian forward movement. He made plain in +so many ways, the urgent need of such, and did this +eloquently. He arraigned the high murder record, which +made all of those before him feel alarmed. The time for +some united effort was necessary. Eventually something +had to be done. Plenty of churches, it was true, were +open; but churches were arranged for worship, and not +for clean sport, pool, billiard, gymnasiums and other +amusements in which young men might indulge, would +indulge, and did indulge; but in so many ways and +places, that were not conducted in a Christian manner.</p> + +<p>"And now," he said, at the close, "we have decided +to start this movement today at home. We will be pleased +to make an example we hope the other churches will +follow." With that, he read the names of the donors<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +and subscribers. Among them, one hundred fifty dollars +by Mildred Latham, the organist, led in cash. They +were surprised. Very few had even become acquainted +with her. Now all desired to. When the meeting had +closed, many gathered about her and were introduced. +Then, as she was turning to go, the person she had observed +when she finished playing, approached. His hand +was extended, while his eyes looked into hers with something +that frightened her when she saw him—and recognized +him as the man she had seen back in Cincinnati, +and who now recognized her.</p> + +<p>When she went home that day, she had reached a +decision.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWELVE_2" id="CHAPTER_TWELVE_2"></a>CHAPTER TWELVE</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>And Then She Began to Grow Otherwise</i></p> + + +<p>The week following Miss Palmer's and Sidney's outing, +was a week of conflictions for her. She was torn by +them considerably. She hardly knew how to feel; +whether to be happy or angry with herself for having acted +as she did. He was kind to her, he was considerate; but +that was all. She had exercised all her wits to make him +see her seriously, but beyond that incident, he had given +her no encouragement whatever. She felt guilty at her +conduct. She accused herself of having acted unbecoming +in her attitude toward him. Although he would not +admit having written the book, which had aroused her +curiosity, she, of course, knew that he had. She had +finished it now, and knew all he had suffered. And, as +she thought it over, time and again, she almost concluded +that his life, as he had suffered, made him hard +and unsympathetic. And almost in the same thought, +she rebuked herself for feeling that way; because, above +all else, he was certainly not selfish.</p> + +<p>He called almost every evening when he had finished +his work, and they sat on the porch in the swing if there +was no one, and when there happened to be, they sat in +the parlor on the davenport. And when they did so, it +so happened they began to flirt. And this continued to +develop until it reached a point she declared to be outrageous. +And yet it persisted. At such times, moreover, +she became bold. There came a time when she was +almost disgusted with herself for being so weak.</p> + +<p>After a few weeks had passed, she came to realize that +her quest was in vain. Sidney Wyeth had no affection, +beyond flirting, with her. And then she began to grow +otherwise. He observed the change, and was sorry, perhaps. +Still, Miss Palmer did not give up entirely. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +was not that kind of person. After all, to kiss him and +to be kissed in return, was some pastime. It was better +than not being kissed or loved at all. So she flirted.</p> + +<p>After this became the usual thing in their acquaintance, +she began to assert other dispositions that had not before +been evident. She inquired boldly where he went when +he didn't call in the evening, as usual. She dictated +where he should go as well. In desperation she continued +her tactics—even to a point where our pen is constrained +to relate.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," said she one evening, when they had +flirted shamefully. "I'm beginning to care for you." +She said this from his knee.</p> + +<p>"I did not," he sighed. He was not the least excited +by her acknowledgement.</p> + +<p>"I am," she affirmed. "More and more as the days +go by." She smiled into his face, while he looked tired. +"Have you anyone back where you came from, who +loves you and calls you her all?" she asked now, as +though she could think of nothing else to say.</p> + +<p>"No, no, no!" He looked distressed. "I wish I had," +he added.</p> + +<p>"I know you tell what is not true—feel you do," she +corrected. After a pause she said: "Do you happen to +have just a little, only a little regard for me?" He made +light of it by blowing her a kiss, and tried to change the +conversation, but she had more to say.</p> + +<p>"Of course you wouldn't love an old grass-widow like +me anyhow," she pouted. He was at a loss what to say, +so said nothing.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you say something?" she said, put out.</p> + +<p>"You should not make such remarks," he said, with +a frown.</p> + +<p>"But it's true, it's true, and you can't deny it." She +seemed angry now, and didn't appear to care what she +said. She left his knee with a last retort. "And you +men are the cause of it all."</p> + +<p>He leaned his head against the back of the davenport +and closed his eyes, which angered her, and she cried:</p> + +<p>"Go to sleep, go to sleep. You are the worst person +I ever knew," and forthwith she left the room.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN_2" id="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN_2"></a>CHAPTER THIRTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Enter—Mr. Tom Toddy!</i></p> + + +<p>When Legs had pawned and lost about all he possessed, +he happened upon a job at one of the hotels, and went +to work. To do so, however, he had to secure a white +jacket, and a pair of black trousers. This was somewhat +difficult on account of his long legs, but he managed to +secure an old pair, and, too glad of the chance to work +where he could fill his stomach regularly, he gave good +service, and was soon on the good side of the head +waiter.</p> + +<p>"Say, Books," he cried one day, soon after he had +commenced work. "You should have seen me eat today. +Nice hot bisquits with butter, and dripping out around +the edges, um-um. Man, the way I did eat! I got all +them nigga's t' laffin' over somethin' funny I said, and +then I'd slip back into the kitchen, open the oven and +get me a half dozen hot rolls and butter'm good, and eat, +and eat, and eat!</p> + +<p>"There is but one thing I can't seem to get over, and +that is that dollar this nigga Moore got me out of bed +to lose. Say, that hurt me worse than anything in this +world. I've drawn the line on him now though. He +ain't nothing but an old always broke coon, a-moochin' +around for somebody to stake him in a game. I could +have made it all right when I came over here, if it hadn't +been for him. And he never won anything, and kept me +broke as long as I would speak to him."</p> + +<p>In a very short time Legs was "on his feet," as the +saying goes. He was making some money and spending +it all. His good resolution with regard to gambling had +been laid on the shelf until further declarations, and he +shot craps whenever off duty, and when he could find a +game. Moore he ignored; but that worthy was as fond<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +of the game as a pig was of corn, so they occasionally +ran into each other, nevertheless. In fact, as Sidney +observed them, almost every Negro shot craps, with few +exceptions. Whiskey and craps were so much in evidence +everywhere he looked, that he drew this conclusion soon.</p> + +<p>Now a man lived overhead, and rented from the landlady, +whose name was Murphy. Wyeth called him +"Smoked Irish." He was a creature with a dark record, +so Wyeth was told, and he hailed from a little town in +the state adjoining. Some years before, he had been a +man of considerable importance, but with women and +other pastimes, he had fallen into bad ways, was sent to +the penitentiary for fraud, and had sought other parts +after the expiration of his term.</p> + +<p>As Wyeth knew him, he was a "bahba," and shaved +chins and sheared wool in one of Effingham's fancy +Negro shops.</p> + +<p>Murphy had seen almost fifty summers, was about +five feet eleven, and a mulatto with coarse, stiff, black +hair, tinged with gray. His features were set, like a man +with experience, and he could tell some wonderful stories. +The Mis' called them lies. They might have been, but +it is to Murphy's credit that they were good ones, and +interesting to listen to.</p> + +<p>On Sunday, and week days also, when he was home +from the shop, and in his loft, Murphy sold whiskey on +the side—or as a side line, and operated a crap game in +addition. The law, of course, did not permit of this, as +we shall see presently; but—well, it didn't matter—as +long as the law didn't know it. And Murphy made +money, Wyeth was told. It was up there Legs invested +most of his earnings, winning once in a while, but losing +more frequently. The fact that Murphy was so convenient +with his diversion, was, in a sense, helpful to +Legs, because he didn't have to journey far to his bed. +And always as soon as he was "cleaned," he would retire +and sleep as peacefully as a babe, until his work called +him the following morning.</p> + +<p>John Moore was a frequent visitor also. Legs put +Wyeth wise, when he inquired why Moore was up there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +so often, since he appeared to have no money. "He's a +piker, a cheap piker that touts for Murphy, for the +privilege of gambling and gettin' a drink a liquah, that +he loves so well."</p> + +<p>Much to the surprise of them all, one Saturday night +about this time, Moore did make a winning. Legs informed +Wyeth to this effect, when he retired from the +battle "clean."</p> + +<p>"Seven dollars and a half, the dirty devil. And he'll +be as scarce as hen's teeth as long as he has a dime of it +too." He was mistaken. That was on Saturday night. +Sunday morning after he had risen and had some good +whiskey, Moore dressed himself like a gentleman, and +made some of the losers envy him for a few hours. Then +he went back upstairs to Murphy's. When Wyeth saw +him again, he was sitting under a shade tree, reading the +Bible. This was a self-evident fact that he had made an +investment. As further evidence of the fact, that night +at supper he offered a beautiful prayer. He had failed +to do so that morning, which was further proof of Legs' +contention.</p> + +<p>Legs came up while Moore was reposing sanctimoniously, +and said: "M-m! Cleaned, eh! Glad of it, the +cheap sucker. He's dead broke, too. Because if he had +even a nickel, he'd be upstairs. You can bet a nickel up +there. The only thing against it is Murphy's cut. He +cuts a nickel a pass. And sometimes he cuts both ways, +going and coming. So, with men betting a nickel against +a nickel, Murphy is liable to take it all."</p> + +<p>Moore retired early that evening, and slept peacefully. +He had worked hard the night before, and that morning.</p> + +<p>The following Saturday night, Legs came to the room, +caught Wyeth half asleep, and borrowed a dollar. With +this, he went for a joy ride, and got drunk into the +bargain. Wyeth didn't realize that he had loaned him +a dollar, until the other was whizzing down the street in +the car. And then he was angry with himself. This +disturbed him until sleep was impossible, so, rising, he +betook himself to the porch. As he thought it over, he +became more angry with himself than ever, because he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +knew Legs had borrowed it for the sole purpose of getting +drunk and joy riding. While he was getting over it in +the soft night air, the Mis' told him Legs had got paid +that day, and, with the exception of what he paid her, +he had lost the remainder of his two weeks' wage in a +game. That made him more angry, and, in seeking a +diversion, he rose, and out of curiosity, he decided to +pay Murphy's den a visit.</p> + +<p>Murphy had a good crowd that night—he usually did +on Saturday. In a room that was near the middle of the +apartment, surrounded by a crowd of Negroes, stood a +table over which was spread a green cloth. At one side +of the table sat Moore, and he called the points and +fished the cuts; while in another room to the rear of +this, with doors open, stood a large refrigerator. This, +Wyeth surmised, was where the liquor was kept. It was, +for, as he was looking, Murphy approached it, opened it, +took therefrom several bottles of beer, and served it to +the many gamesters who were working hard, and perspiring +freely.</p> + +<p>The green cloth, which at one time had decorated a +pool table, was, as he now observed, employed to deaden +the sound of the rolling dice, that slid over it from some +perspiring palm. Not any large amount was upon the +table; but many one dollar bills could be seen in the +palms of the gamesters. Another roomer downstairs, +and who read a great deal, was on hand and shot craps +too. This was something of a surprise, since he was +apparently very intelligent; but, as Wyeth learned later, +literary training did not make them ignore the game by +any means. As he stood watching, the dice passed to +Glenview, the intelligent roomer. He made a point, and +then threw seven before he came back to it. The winners +picked up the money. Wyeth was relieved to see the +dice pass to another Negro, who had been fidgeting about +impatiently. He caught them up, and blew his breath +on them, as they were held in his palm, before throwing +them before him across the table. Wyeth advanced +closer as the game became more excited. Glenview had +thrown the dice, much as Wyeth had observed the white<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +people did back in the <i>Rosebud Country</i>—for they shot +craps there as well. But now, with a "clea' dy way, +I'm a comin'," he let them roll.</p> + +<p>"Throwed eight!" cried Moore.</p> + +<p>"Eight I throwed! Now dice, do it again!"</p> + +<p>"T' click-i-lick-lick-lick, 'ah eight!"</p> + +<p>"Throw-e-d ten!"</p> + +<p>"Haf 'e cain' hit!"</p> + +<p>"Ah got yu!"</p> + +<p>"Qua'ta' mo' I'n make it!" exclaimed the shooter, +hesitating with upraised hand, but shaking the dice in +them the while, and throwing a quarter across the table.</p> + +<p>"Ah'll take yu'!" cried a burley on the other side.</p> + +<p>"Shoot the dice, nigga, shoot the dice," commanded +Moore.</p> + +<p>"T-click-i-lick-i-lick 'ah-ha-eight!"</p> + +<p>"Throwed five!"</p> + +<p>"Ain' no eight on 'nem dice!"</p> + +<p>"T-click-i-click-i-click 'ah, eaighter from Decatur!'"</p> + +<p>"Throwed seben!"</p> + +<p>"Ke-hu!"</p> + +<p>"Tole yu he coul'n't make it!" cried a big dinge. +"Now gimme dem dice!"</p> + +<p>"Bet a quata!"</p> + +<p>"Make it a haf!"</p> + +<p>"Ah take yu!"</p> + +<p>"Shoot the dice, nigga, shoot the dice!"</p> + +<p>"Yeh. Cut out d' awgument 'n' let'm roll, let'm roll!"</p> + +<p>"Gimme room heah 'cause ah kicks!" He did too. +Raising his left foot he stamped the floor with it, kicking +backward viciously at the same time with the other. +He caught a Negro on the shins, which made that worthy +angry with pain, whereupon he turned, and let the other +have a good one in the usual place. For a time the +game was threatened with a fight; but Murphy, who +appeared to understand them quite well, interfered with +success.</p> + +<p>"T-click-i-lick-i-lick, 'ah, seben ah 'leben!'"</p> + +<p>"Throwed craps!"</p> + +<p>"Ya-ha! Makin' all da fuss 'n' lose d' fus' shot!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dem dice 's crooket," he muttered.</p> + +<p>"Yuz a liah," cried one of the winners, as if afraid +they were, and he would not get his bet.</p> + +<p>"Yuse a cheap nigga," said Moore. "Stand aside."</p> + +<p>Next came a little Negro, with a nose that began at +the ears, and peepy eyes which observed the dice suspiciously. +He was displeased with the looks of them, evidently. +They were a large white pair, and which, so 'tis +said, can be loaded. He threw them across the table +without making his bet, saying: "Ah gotta paih mah +own," and produced from his pocket, a pair of huge +celluloid ones, that were beautiful in the electric light.</p> + +<p>"Haf t' use the house's dice, cain't substitute," advised +Moore, judiciously.</p> + +<p>"Why caint ah, I'd lak t' know. Why caint ah!" +he exclaimed, beginning to perspire.</p> + +<p>Moore started to say more, but Murphy came forward +now, with "Let me see them." He took them +carefully in his hand, held them between his eyes and the +light, tossed them about, and then threw them on the +table. "They're all right," and walked away. The +little dinge grabbed them eagerly, rubbed them together +fondly, blew his breath on them, and then, raising his +hand above his head, he made a peculiar rattle and +threw them bouncing and jumping across the table. +The Negroes about had been observing him with ill +omen, and now, as the dice jumped before them like +little red devils, they sparkled in the light, and made their +eyes blink.</p> + +<p>"Throwed seven!" cried Moore.</p> + +<p>"Dogone nigga's 's lucky 's 'e 's ugly," grumbled a +loser.</p> + +<p>"Shoot it all!" he cried, hesitating with the dice in +his hand.</p> + +<p>"Ah'll take it!"</p> + +<p>"Haf 'e cain' hit!"</p> + +<p>"Ah fate yu!"</p> + +<p>"Let'm roll, let'm roll!"</p> + +<p>"T-click-i-lick-i-lick, ah baby dolls!"</p> + +<p>"Throwed five!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Raise ut t' a dollah!"</p> + +<p>"Make ut sebenty-five!"</p> + +<p>"Let'm roll!"</p> + +<p>"T-click-i-lick-i-lick, ah, phoebe!"</p> + +<p>"Throwed five!"</p> + +<p>"Um-m-m-m-m!"</p> + +<p>"T-click-i-lick-lick! a-ha dice!"</p> + +<p>"Throwed seben!"</p> + +<p>"Jes' look ut dat fool nigga, good Gawd!"</p> + +<p>"Sech luck, sech luck, sech luck!"</p> + +<p>"Shoot it all!"</p> + +<p>"Fate dis nickel," begged a loser, with a whimper.</p> + +<p>"Trow it out d' windu' shine!"</p> + +<p>"Now watch dis 'leben!" cried the guy with the luck.</p> + +<p>"Aw, Lawdy, Lawdy, Lawdy, jes' look ut dat nigga +agin!"</p> + +<p>"Nigga, dem dice yu' shootin' uz sho God crooket!"</p> + +<p>"Shoot it all!" Five dollars was the size of the pot +now. It was like five hundred to the eyes that now saw it.</p> + +<p>"Whu, whu, whu!" He blew on them; while with +murder in their eyes, the losers watched.</p> + +<p>"I'll take it," said Glenview calmly. He placed a +five dollar bill over the amount that lay upon the table. +Several had now gone broke, while others declared +silently, that he was a hoo-doo, and feared to risk him. +Several little bets were made on the side, but no one was +willing to risk much against such luck as he had displayed.</p> + +<p>"Now, Anne Jane, bring home du' bacin!" he cried, +as he let them bounce on the table. It seemed an age to +the lookers before they stopped somewhat to the far side. +A six and a five. Eleven. He had won again. There +was no comment now. Every one was silent, and surveyed +him, as if he were the clouds.</p> + +<p>"Shoot it all," he cried again. A bit of muttering went +the rounds before any one ventured to cover it.</p> + +<p>"'E cain' keep ut up, 'e cain' keep ut up," declared one +who held only three dollars out of a ten dollar bill a few minutes +before. He threw a dollar viciously toward him. After +much parley, others joined; John Moore saw Murphy's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +back, eased a dollar from the cuts, and added it to the +pool. Twenty dollars was now the stake, and it was +like a million to those that saw it.</p> + +<p>The winner now uncoated himself. He had on nothing +beneath the coat but an undershirt. He flung his +hat in the corner, revealing a little sharp head, shaven +clean and upon which the light dazzled like a smoked +opal. As Wyeth observed him, he was reminded of an +ape, if he had ever seen one. He took plenty of time, as +though anticipating something. Rolling up his sleeve, +he exposed a pair of sinewy arms that made the crowd +exchange glances. Sidney was standing near the window. +At this moment he happened to look out. From up the +street came a sound of merry rollicking. No other +appeared to hear.</p> + +<p>The dice were now tumbling over the table in their +fateful quest. More than a dozen pairs of brown eyes +blinked dryly at them, as the red material flickered +beautifully. Wyeth now looked carefully in the direction +of the sound, and finally caught the outline of Legs. +From the distance, he saw that he was loaded. He was +covering considerable space—so much so that it would +have been extremely difficult to have passed him on the +walk, which was narrow. And behind him came another. +He was about half the height of Legs, as they now appeared. +Wyeth recognized him as the runt, and his +name was Tom Toddy, at least, that is what they called +him about a hotel that was patronized by Negroes, and +where he acted as a sort of goat and flunky. Wyeth had +had his life threatened on one occasion by him. It was +because he had called him "Graveyard." He was old, +bald-headed and measly. So this epithet seemed quite +appropriate. And, thereupon, Toddy had threatened to +send him into eternity, if he addressed him again in such +terms. He had a load also.</p> + +<p>On they came, and for the time Wyeth forgot the +game. Toddy was now beside Legs, and they embraced +like man and wife. As Wyeth smiled at the spectacle, +they began to sing.</p> + +<p class="center small"> +"It's a long, long way to Temporary,"</p> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + +<p>and as they came on, they changed it to:</p> + +<p class="center small"> +"We're a long, long way from home." +</p> + +<p>Wyeth laughed now almost outright; but those behind +him never heard. They heard only, and saw with all +eyes, that the apish creature had won again, and had +strapped the crowd to cover the next bet he was now +shooting for.</p> + +<p>Legs and Toddy had reached the curbing, and, not +seeing it, they tumbled over into the sand-covered street. +As they picked themselves up, they sang lowly:</p> + +<p class="center small"> +"You made me what I am today,<br /> +So I guess you're satisfied." +</p> + +<p>On toward the house they now came, singing at intervals. +Presently they stepped upon the porch, and +rattled the knob. The door was always kept locked +during such proceedings. From the lower end of town, +a rooster crowed long and loud; while, at the same +moment, a clock from some remote tower struck two. +The dice tumbled onward to their fatal end, and Legs +kicked the door a bang.</p> + +<p>In the still night, it sounded like the discharge of a +cannon.</p> + +<p>Then here came a lull. All became so quiet that the +ticking of a clock upon the mantel sounded like the +pounding of a hammer. Faces turned about and eyes +looked into each other. They were all colors and a sight +to see. The little Negro, coolest all the while, eased the +money into his jeans, as the others cried all at once:</p> + +<p>"The bulls!"</p> + +<p>And now began the scramble, and it was a mighty one.</p> + +<p>Under the table went many, whereupon it turned over, +and revealed them all wiggling like so many eels. To +the room containing the refrigerator, went a half dozen +others and closed the door. John Moore stood in the +center of the room where he had been deserted by the +others, his knees hitting together with a sound like +rocks. Cold fear, for he was an awful coward, held him +like a vise. Into the closets; into Murphy's bedroom +went some more, and piled in a hurry into the bed, +whereupon it gave way with a loud crash, mixing many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +in a nasty, smothered mass, where they tried to extricate +themselves with much difficulty.</p> + +<p>And, in the meantime, the kicking continued. "Let +me in! Let me in! What in Hell!" cried Legs, and it +was punctuated with a piping from Tom Toddy.</p> + +<p>"Yes,"—he was very proper—"open up! Open up! +This is a He-ll uv a way to treat two gentlemen!"</p> + +<p>John Moore was still doing the dazzle; but, now +upon hearing the voices, he gathered enough courage to +stand erect, and then he turned hurriedly and running +to a rear window, put his feet out, jumped out full upon +the soft dirt below, and landed without injury, apparently, +for, a moment later, Wyeth heard him running +around the house in the direction of the kicking. He +didn't permit the miscreants to see him, until he had +made out fully that they were not officers. When he +had made sure they were not blue-coats, he advanced +on them from the rear, and took them by surprise. He +appeared unable to frame words of denunciation strong +enough, but at last he made it. His voice was subdued +when he did speak, he was so angry.</p> + +<p>"Yeu! Yeu! Y-e-u long-legged nigga! Yeu liver +eatin' bunch a-meat! And you! You little dried shrimp! +Git ready t' die, 'cause 's sho 's I'm a nigga, I'm going +t' part you from this earth t'night!"</p> + +<p>They turned now, for a moment sober, and looked at +him. He went on with his tirade.</p> + +<p>"Makin' all this noise down heh, 'n' scarrin' everybody +t' death, 'n' a-breakin' up the game! This is wha' you +all 'n' me meets our Jehovah!"</p> + +<p>Legs was now too near the edge, and, suddenly with a +catching to save himself, which Moore construed as an +advance upon him, he went overboard with a mighty +tumble.</p> + +<p>To this day, however, John Moore didn't know it was +an accident. He didn't wait to investigate. A long pair +of legs, with a long body on top of them was all he cared +to see, and when they landed, he was going around the +corner of the house and into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>His hurry up ingress awakened the Mis', who bolted +out of bed, and demanded to know what was up.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The devil's up—on the front porch, a-raisin' cain."</p> + +<p>"What are you talkin' 'bout!"</p> + +<p>"That long-legged nigga from Attalia a-comin in heh +a-kickin' on the door, and a-scarrin everybody outta the' +senses!" he told her, much excited, and with his back +against the door, not failing to listen in the meantime.</p> + +<p>Wyeth descended the stair now, opened the street door, +admitting Legs and Toddy. Legs entered first, while +Toddy, blinking blindly, followed suit with a grip on his +coat tail.</p> + +<p>"Where is he," cried Legs. "I mean John Moore! +I want to kill him! Death for him is the campaign for +tonight! From this earth he's got to part! Where is he! +Show him to me now, and in a minute I'll show you his +heart, the skunk."</p> + +<p>In some way, Moore did not hear this; but stood at +the rear looking for Legs from that direction; and, in +the meantime, declaring to the Mis' what he was going +to do.</p> + +<p>"I'm go'n throw that nigga out tonight! To-night, or +I'll die tomorra, so help me Jaysus!"</p> + +<p>Legs, who had entered his bedroom which opened into +the kitchen, overheard this last. He now tore off his +coat and hat, which Tom Toddy held, and forthwith +sought Moore with a mighty oath. Glenview put in his +appearance now from the rear, and kept Legs out of +the kitchen, which fact sufficed for John Moore to make +words. Our pen fails to describe this in detail.</p> + +<p>"Git yo things 'n' go!" cried Moore near the door, +and positive that Glenview was between them. "Leave +mah house at once!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, hush! Hush! Hush!" interposed the Mis'.</p> + +<p>"Leave, leave, to-night!"</p> + +<p>"Just let me get to him, just let me get to him! I +want to eat'm," begged Legs.</p> + +<p>"Yeh; let us have him. We're going t' skin him," +squeaked Tom Toddy.</p> + +<p>"This is terrible," cried the Mis'.</p> + +<p>"Just let me get my fingers on the tramp, and it'll be +all over in a minute," Legs begged.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> + +<p>"All but the funeral," assisted Toddy.</p> + +<p>"Orderin' somebody out of <i>his</i> house. You ain' +nothin' but the flunky anywhere. If I was in charge +here, I'd make you sleep under the bed!"</p> + +<p>"I'd make him sleep under the house, the lousy rat," +cried Toddy.</p> + +<p>"Ah said you leave this house now," cried Moore. +"These ah the orders from me. From me-e!"</p> + +<p>"The Mis' ain' said nothin'," Legs cried again.</p> + +<p>"Leave, leave, before I tear yu' t' pieces," Moore +raved, stamping his foot.</p> + +<p>At that moment, Legs gave Glenview a push that +sent him reeling, and with a lunge, he cornered Moore. +That worthy was frightened into Hades. He was speechless. +Legs smiled on him as he reached out and got him +by the ears. Grasping them tight, he essayed a bumping +process against the wall with his head.</p> + +<p>"Have you got him, boy?" inquired Toddy, making +sure before he ventured forth with a small knife. "What +shall I do to the sucker now? Just tell me, and I'll +proceed to take off his nose or his lips; either one of +them will make good dog meat."</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't have come home disturbing everybody +like this," said the Mis', and seemed hurt. This +had effect on Legs, who was always considerate of the +ladies.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry for you, Mis'; but I've had it in for this +hunk a meat, ever since he got me out of bed to lose +my last dollar." He emphasized the remark by another +bumping.</p> + +<p>"I'm a poor widow woman without protection, and +you are ruining the only way I have of making a living." +That was enough. He forgot John Moore for a second, +and the next moment that worthy was locked in an +adjoining room. Here he went into a tirade. Legs forgot +the Mis' now and sought him, but the door was +locked and bolted.</p> + +<p>"Git yo things 'n' go nigga!" he cried boldly now, +from his safe retreat.</p> + +<p>"If you had called, or knocked, I would have come<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +and opened the door, as I always do. There was no call +for all this!" remonstrated the Mis'.</p> + +<p>"Don't lock me out, don't lock me out!" Legs raged.</p> + +<p>"Git yo things and go, dy'e hear," from the retreat. +Legs now became angry with the Mis'.</p> + +<p>"Gimme a dollar Mis' and I'll go. If that thing in +the other woom there is running this place, I don't want +to stay."</p> + +<p>"Git yo things 'n' go!"</p> + +<p>"Gimme a dollar!"</p> + +<p>"You ought to have known better than to create such +a disturbance," the Mis' said.</p> + +<p>"Gimme a dollar!" from Legs again.</p> + +<p>"Let's get another drink!" from Toddy.</p> + +<p>"I've always treated you like a gentleman."</p> + +<p>"Gimme a dollar!" "Gimme a dollar 'n' a haf!"</p> + +<p>"What we go'n give you a dollar 'n' a haf fo'?"</p> + +<p>"I paid room rent in advance last Wednesday."</p> + +<p>"Now! Here!" cried the Mis', "all of you go to bed +and forget this noise."</p> + +<p>"Ah'm go'n git 'n' officer, and have that long-legged +nigga 'rested!" from within.</p> + +<p>"Go to bed!" from the Mis'.</p> + +<p>"Go'n have who arrested?" exclaimed Legs, mad all +over again.</p> + +<p>"'F you do'n git out at once, I'm go'n throw you out!"</p> + +<p>"If I ever get my hands on you again, you old cheap +nigga; you old broken nigga; you moochin' piker; you +pot a-neck-bone stew!"</p> + +<p>"Say," cried one of the roomers, just then, "a pair +of bulls are coming down the street!"</p> + +<p>That was the end of it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN_2" id="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN_2"></a>CHAPTER FOURTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>The Disappearing Chin</i></p> + + +<p>Some years before, back in the west, and at the drug +store in a little town near which Wyeth owned land, and +where, during the cold wint'ry days, the more intelligent +and pretentious, as well as argumentative were wont to +collect and discuss science, politics and economics, a subject +came up one day, that thereafter, became the topic +on more than one afternoon's discussion.</p> + +<p>It concerned chins, and grew out of the presence of an +insurance writer, who was booziogically inclined. And, +being so, and a man of no great means, if any, it was a +puzzle to many how he could get the means to fill up on +liquor daily, and pay for it.</p> + +<p>The occurrence had remained in Wyeth's memory, +and, afterwards, he had a new viewpoint in observing +people.</p> + +<p>Fitzpatrick was his name, and he was, of course, Irish. +His ability to get the wherewith to get drunk daily, and +have money for other purposes as well, came up one day +for discussion. The more logical and nature study +debaters, laid it to the fact that he was possessed of an +indefatigable will, and that, in addition, was conspicuously +evident in his chin. Fitzpatrick had a wonderful +chin; one was inclined to take notice of it the first time +he met the man. It extended some distance beyond his +teeth, and was square and firm. A chin that was set in +such a fashion and did not recede, was, they argued, an +evidence of will. So be it.</p> + +<p>Chins were carefully observed at once, and lo, the +druggist was the only one with a chin that was inclined +to disappear. It was plain at first glance, that not one +of more than a dozen, possessed a chin the equal of +Fitzpatrick.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was then that Sidney began to see everybody's chin, +apart from every other, the moment he met a person. +When he had come back again among his own, after +eleven years, his observation began to reveal chins, which +according to the argument related, were, to say the least, +discouraging. Almost two-thirds of his people possessed +the disappearing chin. A bad sign, he was positive, but +they had it, and he now studied this race to which he +belonged, very carefully, and from an every day and +practical point of view. He did not attempt a scientific +study, for, in the first place, he knew little of science, +and in the second place, to understand life from a practical +point of view, and to apply one's thoughts and +efforts to that end, seemed to him a more profitable +occupation. In this research, he met many of his people +who had gone through college, knew everything from the +dark ages to Caesar, but many of them couldn't have +bounded the state which they called home, for they paid +little attention to their surroundings. As he became +better acquainted with them, he was disappointed upon +finding them ignorant. At the same time, they had +little appreciation for another's viewpoint, unless he had +<i>been to school and graduated from college</i>.</p> + +<p>Having digressed, we will attempt to return to the +story.</p> + +<p>The druggist was not an assuming person, and admitted, +very gracefully, to the fact that he possessed +neither will nor determination; but, as Sidney Wyeth +knew his people, he did not expect many to be so frank.</p> + +<p>So, it came about that when he met Miss Palmer, +almost the first thing he took notice of when she came +out of the darkness to the porch, was that she possessed +a chin, the point of which was far beyond the lips. It +was that fact more than any other, that caused him to +try in every way possible, to secure her services. As we +have stated, he had little confidence in chinless persons, +a fact, which was so much in evidence among his people.</p> + +<p>So, when he had known Miss Palmer a few weeks, and +had been convinced, from a practical point of view, that +she did possess will in keeping with the set of her chin,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +he confided the fact to her. She smiled very modestly, +and, of course, deplored it; but, nevertheless, he caught +her studying the reflection of it more than once, when +a mirror was convenient.</p> + +<p>That Miss Palmer was determined, vigorous, possessed +courage and had strength of her convictions, was a positive +fact. When she made up her mind to do a thing, +if she failed, it was because it was beyond the range of +reasonable effort to accomplish it. And it was shortly +after this, that Wyeth discovered that such a fortune +could be superabundant. That is, a person could be +endowed with so many of these helpful qualities that it +passed beyond the range of judgment to assert them. +This happened to be what he discovered in Miss Palmer. +He regretted it too, because he had begun to admire her.</p> + +<p>The presence of these aggressive facts, began later to +result in a change in their regard for each other. They +disagreed in their point of view, and, still later, they +came to a crash, literally.</p> + +<p>For Miss Palmer was, in addition to the agreeable and +admirable things he had discovered, pretentious to an +alarming degree. And it was this, which caused the +trouble.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Our pen has not before had occasion to relate that +the change in the life of Sidney Wyeth, from the prairies +to the present, was due, in a great measure, to the evil +genius of an overly busy person. And yet, such was the +fact. Therefore, being an observing character, and realizing +these qualities, but not appreciating them in the +creature whom he would always despise, he did, above +all else, wish to avoid a person thus richly endowed. +He had declared many a time, that he trusted the diamond +back rattlers that infested the prairies, more than he did +an unduly pretentious, ostentatious person.</p> + +<p>Therefore, when he came to notice these qualities in +Miss Palmer, it led to frequent disagreements. And yet, +withal, no one could altogether dislike Miss Palmer. +There came a time when he felt, that if she did not try +to argue on everything that came up, without first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +attempting to equip herself with a few facts bearing on +<a name="the_subject_and_which_would_serve_to_substantiate_her" id="the_subject_and_which_would_serve_to_substantiate_her"></a>the subject, and which would serve to substantiate her +argument, he could have overlooked much of her pretense. +But, as he came to know her better, she argued on everything, +and sought to force her conclusions upon the +other, when her knowledge was quite foreign to the +question on hand. She literally murdered facts. And, +as time went on, he saw that her aim was, very often, +merely to dominate, with no apparent regard for what +might be learned by careful listening.</p> + +<p>In Effingham, as in every other town, Wyeth had discovered, +among his people, a set who claimed to be the +more elite; they were the more intelligent, and called +themselves society. On his pilgrimage, he had never +sought to become a part of this society.</p> + +<p>In Effingham, Sidney came to see this phase a little +clearer than before, due to his acquaintance with Miss +Palmer—that is, that side of it, the woman's side. As +for the men, he met that at the drug store, where he had +relieved the druggist of two dollars, and where the more +elite gathered and indulged. Arguments were usually in +process there, he soon saw; and when not so engaged, +they gambled and drank to an alarming degree, in the +back room, and secluded, where he was not invited. +Cards were the custom; but soon craps, he heard, became +more conspicuous. The druggist was "a" shooter, +and won quite frequently, so 'twas said.</p> + +<p>Miss Palmer took pride—as well she might—in informing +Wyeth of the fact that she was a member of the +colored society of Effingham, and proved it by entertaining +until she was ever bankrupt; she was always up +against it for money; and this fact, no doubt, brought +her to selling books, as a means to make ends meet +during vacation. But Miss Palmer did not, could not, +of course, be expected to admit such a thing. She could +have said nothing about it, which would have been as +dignified; but she made it a point to appraise Wyeth +of the fact, that she only did it to help him, at which +times she would smile, and show her little teeth. "I +like you so much," and she would smile again, "that it is +my great and ardent desire to help you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> + +<p>Sidney had never appreciated it in this way.</p> + +<p>At Miss Palmer's could often be found a gathering of +teachers, of which Effingham, with its sixty thousand +black people, had many. And these, to whom the +masses looked to for tutor, he studied very carefully. +He had, as before stated, never shown them the book; +but the surprise of it was, that Miss Palmer had not +done so either.</p> + +<p>In one of the little suburbs, where they had canvassed, +he recalled a row of very attractive homes occupied by +the more respectable colored people. Miss Palmer had +canvassed there very carefully, and had sold the book to +nearly every one, but she had as carefully avoided showing +it to a professor, who occupied the most imposing of +the row. He had not said anything, but, of course, he +could scarcely help noticing this careful avoidance of all +houses where teachers lived. In some manner, the +matter came up one day, and Miss Palmer merely +remarked that the teachers were all broke, would be so, +until school opened again.</p> + +<p>Sidney had surpressed his criticism. But one day he +called on Miss Palmer. He was just in time to meet a +white woman coming out. The latter turned and thanked +Miss Palmer for her kindness in giving her the list of +thirty teachers, with the suggestion that they would be +interested in the set of books for which she was agent. +The lady had sold to twenty-five of that number, not +counting Miss Palmer, who had cheerfully started the +list. And the books were in twenty volumes, at one +dollar each.</p> + +<p>Of course, Miss Palmer showed them to her friend +with much ado, stating that the same would be so helpful +to her in her school work. He said it was very nice; +but he wondered just what particular help the books +could be to these teachers, for the set were a collected +list of fiction, with no care as to whether it was a +work of specific interest. The set included many volumes, +by authors who issued a book every sixty days, all of +which were on sale at any bookseller, or by mail at that +time, and for some time past, at fifty cents a volume, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +twenty copies from the publishers at forty-five cents +each.</p> + +<p>Of course, Miss Palmer did not know this, or any of +the other twenty-five teachers out of the thirty who had +purchased—and lest we forget, it was this lack of knowledge +that had cost the druggist two dollars, because he +had been shown a work by one of his race, with a suggestion +to buy. The fact uppermost in the mind of +Sidney was, that the teachers with few exceptions, scarcely +needed any such work to teach black children. Many +of them would be unlikely to read as many as half a +dozen of the books in their lifetime. And yet, by borrowing +the book, they were reading <i>The Tempest</i>. Some +were even contemptible in their criticism; but all of +them borrowed it and read it, including Miss Palmer; +and she admitted it was the only book she had read that +season, other than what she was compelled to read by +the board of education.</p> + +<p>But all of these people felt they were sacrificing everything +for their race, and would deplore it, were they told +that such was not true.</p> + +<p>But the teachers were nice; much more interesting to +talk to than the common herd. They could, almost all, +smile beautifully; and they could pronounce their English +more correctly, employing their "r's," and interspersing +their discourse with a clever toss of the head or +twinkle of the eye; and when one of the race, who had +been successful, married, he invariably picked a teacher. +They were sensible enough to realize that a husband who +could keep the wolf from the door, was a treasure +to be appreciated. It was thus Sidney Wyeth found +teachers. But he could not understand why they seldom +appreciated Negro literature to the point of purchasing, +since they were engaged in the teaching.</p> + +<p>Miss Palmer was buying a small home in one of the +suburbs, and which was all she could boast of owning. +As we know her, she secured her living by teaching nine +months in the year, at forty dollars a month. And as we now +know, she must perforce earn something during vacation, +which was the real reason for selling Wyeth's book. So,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +from what we know of her, there is no reason why she +should not have been conspicuous in colored society, +since the masses, unfortunately, are all poor. Hence, +wealth cannot be the dividing line, else there would be +no society whatever.</p> + +<p>Miss Palmer showed more ostentation as their acquaintance +lengthened. Sidney was now thirty; and +since nineteen, he had lived on the western ranges. +And, as is usually the case, western people are great +readers. But here, his people did not read. Not that +they could not do so, but because it was apparently not a +preference; considering the fact that few seemed to care +for much reading beyond a newspaper sensation. And, +as he met the more elite, he was surprised that they paid +so little attention to the condition of the masses. Murder, +as we have seen, was an established habit. Of all those +he had met, the teachers impressed Wyeth as having the +least regard for conditions. In other words, "they never +worried." They dressed the best their means would +afford, and aped the rest, which was easy. And this +he found so prevalent, that he was, at times, dreadfully +bored by it all. But he was relieved when he looked +deeper, to find that the people who were actually succeeding +in doing something, paid little attention to this set, +which dominated society. But the set claimed them, nevertheless.</p> + +<p>As he had known society from reading of it only, he +had judged that literature was one of its chief features—but +not so with this. Gossip and hearsay were more in +keeping, and obviously more appreciated.</p> + +<p>Wyeth was a literary man now for the sake of gaining +a livelihood; but he had studied it, as we know, from a +modern point of view. He had never, however, any +difference of opinion with them, for so few knew of the +late books, purchased few, and most of them not +any magazines of interest. Not one in a dozen even +read the race's only periodical, <i>The Climax</i>: though the +editor had once been one of them, and had written a +book, a novel. It was a failure, from a financial point of +view.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<p>The fiction they knew and talked of was in the order +of Rip Van Winkle, Ben Hur and St. Elmo.</p> + +<p>One day, when arguments were abundant, it came to a +point where Wyeth made mention of the fact that so +few teachers showed any interest in current events; +did not read the magazines, and Negro literature they +almost held in contempt.</p> + +<p>"Is it because they feel that no Negro knows enough +to write anything they would care to read?"</p> + +<p>"The idea," cried Miss Palmer, indignant. "All the +teachers take the magazines, and as for Negro literature, +it has been the teachers who have robbed themselves to +make the same possible."</p> + +<p>"And yet other than 'Up From Bondage' and the +works of the dead poet, you can seldom find a volume +by a Negro author in any of their houses.... And, if I +have investigated correctly, ninety per cent of this was +placed there, after the white people had bought it and +proclaimed the authors great. In the many houses I +have been in with you, I have not yet seen any of Derwin's. +Though one of them he wrote, and which is named after +our souls, had a great sale among the white people even."</p> + +<p>"I cannot see, nor appreciate either, your point of +view with regard to the teachers' lack of literary interest, +when not two weeks ago, twenty-six teachers among a +list of thirty, purchased a set of twenty volumes each, +and which cost them all that many dollars."</p> + +<p>"And every volume by an author few know of, further +than that he was white, and, therefore, knew something," +he retorted.</p> + +<p>It ended there and they were both relieved that it did; +but neither forgot it.</p> + +<p>Effingham, with its sixty thousand black people, had +scores of drug stores which sold literature. Many newsstands +also did such a business exclusively. There were +four drug stores operated by colored people, and, like +Attalia, not one sold magazines and newspapers as a side +line; nor did any sell literature, which were operated by +whites that depended upon Negro trade. Granting, of +course, that many colored people bought such at white<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> +places, when they desired to read, it may reasonably be +imagined how much literature was in demand among the +colored people.</p> + +<p>Wyeth usually purchased a work of fiction weekly, and +sometimes more; while some weeks, of course, he omitted +this custom. One day, he was asked by the clerk of the +leading book store in Effingham, what he did with so +many books when he had read them. "We have sold," +he said, "seven copies of the book you sold us; but I +guess you'll be surprised to know that we have not, as +yet, sold one to a Negro." Wyeth was not surprised, +but didn't say so. "That ad we placed in the colored +paper, and have had standing a month, would bring +dozens of curious white people in to see what it was. +And, of course, some would purchase it to see what was +said. Then, if the contents did not thrill or please, +indifference would follow. But when nobody buys, not +even inquires, we can only feel that your people don't +have much interest in books, and we have had the same +experience before." He smiled when he had finished, a +smile that was embarrassed. He disliked to say it, +apparently, but when Wyeth was so pleasant, he added: +"We have bought what few books your race has written, +for the purpose of sale, and have naturally expected some +evidence of interest from them, by a call and an occasional +purchase. And I am telling you the truth, if we depended +on them to unload this stuff from our shelves, it would +be there yet, as some of it is. You have personally +bought more literature, in the way of current books, +since you came in here, than all the rest of your people +in this town together."</p> + +<p>Wyeth went his way then, but he was no longer surprised, +as he once was, for he had heard that many times +before.</p> + +<p>One day shortly after, Wyeth happened in at the +druggist's place, the hot bed of argument. He inquired +why a few magazines were not carried in stock.</p> + +<p>"Hell!" cried that one, throwing his hands up in a +gesture of despair and mingled disgust, "nigga's don't +read."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> + +<p>The following Sunday morning, when the drug store +was full, he happened to mention a new book he had, +and which many of the idlers were inspecting, one by one, +asking to borrow it when he was through. He suggested +that it was on sale uptown, then quoted the words of +the clerk, who had remarked that he, Wyeth, bought more +books than did the rest of the colored people put together.</p> + +<p>He was hooted down, so there was no argument. Each +was positive that his friend had bought one; while that +friend was likewise of the same opinion. And of the +many, almost every one had read the book he wrote, +having borrowed it from someone who had bought it. +The druggist then offered an excuse for the absence of +literature at his store, by declaring that almost all the +people subscribed, and the same came through mail.</p> + +<p>Miss Palmer and he were certainly very forgetful.</p> + +<p>Literature was a dead issue, that could not be denied; +but whiskey was not.</p> + +<p>Effingham had no library for its black people, and they +were not allowed the privilege of the white. Yet a part +of their tax was paid to support the same. Still, no one +gave that much thought, insofar as Wyeth could ascertain. +When he mentioned it to the teachers, almost +without exception they replied: "No use. Negroes don't +read." And it was so everywhere. Yet every class but +the doctors and teachers purchased <i>The Tempest</i>, when +it was brought to their attention, and Wyeth even sold +to three of these (two doctors and one teacher) in Effingham +that summer.</p> + +<p>No, no one he met had any worry about a library; +but thousands of black children ran wild day by day +upon their streets, went to jail in great numbers before +they were of age, and filled convict camps as members of +chain gangs long before they could be called even young +men. There was no library, nor was there a park; but +there were plenty of other places conducive to crime. +And still Effingham had more than a hundred Negro +churches.</p> + +<p>"Can you not realize, that in your absence of such +necessities for the training of these little black children,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +that you are growing children for the chain gang every +day?" But this never aroused any visible concern. +And sometimes they did say, emphatically:</p> + +<p>"Aw, we don't need no library; and if we had a park +for colored people, they would do nothing but fight in +it." And still others would cry: "Git religion! 'n' +read d' Bible; pr'pare y'self fo' Heaben." And still +others were in disgust, as they replied: "A nigga ain' +going to 'mount to nothin' nohow, so what's the use?"</p> + +<p>"A library could be obtained, if the conditions here +were brought to the attention of the northern philanthropists," +he suggested to Miss Palmer, whereupon she +cried:</p> + +<p>"Oh, Mr. Wyeth, you bore me with your contention +about libraries and parks and Y.M.C.A.'s and the like. +These nigga's in Effingham are not worrying about such +things; so why should you, a stranger, a mere observer, +be so concerned!"</p> + +<p>"Because, Miss Palmer, I cannot help but see all this +murder and crime going on, which is undermining the +foundation of colored society. Every day, when my +paper comes, it's murder, murder, murder, and fully +ninety per cent is among our people, although only two-fifths +of the population is Negro."</p> + +<p>"Haven't I told you all along, that the crime is among +the low down, whiskey drinking, depraved element, and +not among the best people?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but this country cannot exist in peace and +prosperity and happiness; nor can this race, with the +greater part ignorant, criminal and depraved. The more +intelligent have, for their duty, the task of helping in +any way possible, and by so doing, lift these unfortunates +into a state of intelligence and self-respect."</p> + +<p>"Well," she contended, resignedly, "that is for the +churches to do, there's enough of them."</p> + +<p>"And the teachers, because they are looked to, +should help as much as they can with their higher intelligence, +for the mothers are too ignorant and too depraved +to do so. But of the many churches, of which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> +seventy are Baptist, not one has any connection or +interest in a school here, directly or indirectly."</p> + +<p>"I begin to think you are going to lose your mind, if +you don't quit seeing the many iniquities of our people. +If you would only see what the good people are doing, +and try to interest yourself more in them, you would be +happier," she said. He sighed now, and then said to +himself: "What's the use."</p> + +<p>"Quit it all, Sidney," she said softly, calling him for +the first time by his first name. "Quit all this worry +about these nigga's and be yourself; be sweet." And +she kissed him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIFTEEN_2" id="CHAPTER_FIFTEEN_2"></a>CHAPTER FIFTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Wilson, Wilson! Mildred Is Gone!</i>"</p> + + +<p>"Wilson, Wilson! Mildred is gone, Mildred is gone!" +cried Constance, ringing her hands despairingly.</p> + +<p>"Gone," he breathed, uncomprehendingly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, gone." His sister sank into a chair, and gave +up to a flood of tears.</p> + +<p>"But why?" he cried, only now seeming to understand +that she had actually left them.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, I don't know," she moaned.</p> + +<p>"This is certainly a mystery. Surely dear, you are +mistaken," he insisted, greatly disturbed. "Mildred +would surely not have left us so unceremoniously. And, +besides—why, she—she, Constance, why she gave one +hundred and fifty dollars to the Christian association +movement only today. And you cannot mean that she +has gone! It is hardly possible!"</p> + +<p>"I only wish it were not so; but come," and, taking +his hand, she led him to the room Mildred had occupied. +It was deserted, save for the furniture that belonged +there. Only once had he seen the inside of it while she +occupied it. And now it did not appear the same; +because then, it was decorated with much lace and +woman's needle work and picture postals. But, strange +as he had thought, when he happened to glance into it +before, there were no pictures of girls and men, young or +old, nobody excepting the picture of the author of the +book which she sold, and which had been taken from the +frontispiece.</p> + +<p>"This is the way I found it when I came home a few +minutes ago," she said, resigned. "I cannot make it out; +I cannot make anything out, except that the sweetest +friend, the dearest girl I ever knew, has disappeared +strangely."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She sang at the meeting only a few hours ago, and +sang as I never heard her sing before. She was, moreover, +in the best of spirits all day, and was so enthusiastic +over the meeting. Dear me," he sighed wearily.</p> + +<p>"If she had only left some word; given some hint +that she was going to leave, but, of course she knew, +and couldn't tell us, so there is no use at all. She's +gone and I cannot imagine how much I am going to +miss her."</p> + +<p>Her brother sank into a chair, and gazed silently at +nothing. He could not think clearly of the departure. +For days he had slaved for this day of inauguration, and +in his work, he had looked forward to her for much help. +Her encouragement, to be near her and to hear her voice +daily, was more to him than our pen can describe. He +had felt that he could face the mighty struggle (which +he knew was now before him) with all the strength of +the strong; but now only, he fully estimated what she +had been to him, and what he had dreamed that she +would be some day. And all that, was now cast aside; +in this one moment, his hope, his greatest hope had +been shattered.</p> + +<p>His sister looked at him, and for a moment, almost +fell on her knees in sympathy. For she had not been +blind. She had seen the change coming over him, with +no thought but to encourage him. Constance had faith +and patience and perseverance, and she had felt that +everything would result favorably in the end.</p> + +<p>And then she had watched this girl during that spell +of a short time ago. She had seen her appearance change, +as the result of some mystery. Her eyes became dazed +from loss of sleep, due to the worry and subtle fear. It +was then, with great cheer, that she saw it disappear +later, until she was the same again. Constance was +happy then, because the other was happy. She had +been happier still, because she saw that, without effort, +the other was making her brother happy. He had fairly +thrived under it.</p> + +<p>Constance felt that his lot was a hard one. She was +confident that he would be a leader of men, in a greater<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +measure than he was at the present. And when she had +carefully observed the practical ability, as well as the +intuition and foresight of Mildred Latham, she had +longed, with all the craving of her heart, for a union +between these two.</p> + +<p>And, as she saw her brother now, with eyes dry and +listless, her heart went out to him with all of a sister's +love. It pained her more, when she realized that she +could not help him. She would have to stand by and +say nothing, at the very time he needed her more than +ever before. He was too strong a man by disposition; +he possessed too much will power, and was too proud +to ask or accept sympathy. It would all have to be +given in silence.</p> + +<p>There was a knock at the door. She heard steps on +the porch, and guessed it was the people calling in regard +to the Y.M.C.A. And it was only then she recalled, +that they had been invited to a supper. She called to +him:</p> + +<p>"Wilson, some one has called." She went to the door +and admitted a dozen persons, members of the church, +and foremost enthusiasts in the Christian forward movement.</p> + +<p>"Well, well!" Martin Girsh, principal of the local +high school cried, coming in ahead of the others. "You +are both sitting here at home, when we have been looking +all around for you. And you both show the effect of the +strain you have been laboring under, in this affair." +He said this after he had seen the look upon their faces, +their efforts at self-possession, which they could not hide. +They were glad he saw it that way.</p> + +<p>"Where is the young lady, the dear young lady who +showed such an interest in the movement by giving such +a liberal sum?" inquired one, and it was immediately +taken up by the others. It required an effort on the +part of both, to explain that she was out and would not +be back again that evening....</p> + +<p>"Isn't that too bad! And all of us were simply wild +to meet her, to hear her sing, and to know more of this +courageous young person," said the professor, with much +regret.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She is positively a jewel, to say the least. Upon my +honor," cried another, who was a letter carrier, "I didn't +know she was such a treasure until she sang, and when +she led them all in a cash subscription, I declared I +would have to become better acquainted with her."</p> + +<p>"I had heard her play and sing, but, indeed, I didn't +know she possessed such a voice before."</p> + +<p>"Suppose we arrange a banquet for this young lady, +have her cut in the paper, and let the people know what +a race-spirited young woman we have in this town," +suggested one. The others took it up by acclamation. +Wilson's eyes found his sister's, with a sickly green +expression. And then he heard them again.</p> + +<p>"When can we arrange this, Wilson? It is left to you +and Miss Jacobs to set a date. The incident of this +young woman's contribution to the colored Y.M.C.A., +can be employed to a great advantage in the inauguration +of this movement."</p> + +<p>"Fire, fire, fire!" came an alarm from the street at +that moment. All eyes sought the front, where, directly +across the street and one door down, a large frame house +suddenly burst into flames. Forthwith the visitors +rushed, in a body. A wind was blowing strongly from +the west at that moment, and the conflagration seemed +to draw the flames. It had not rained for some time, +and in an incredibly short time, the beautiful structure +of a few minutes before, was beyond saving. From the +way the flames were fanned by the wind, they threatened +to endanger other buildings.</p> + +<p>In a few minutes, the place was surrounded by spectators; +while a number of fire departments were rushed +to the scene from different directions.</p> + +<p>It was hours later before the flames were subdued. +Only a mass of charred ruins marked the place where the +handsome structure had stood.</p> + +<p>Services at the churches were well under way before +many of the watchers left the scene, and the number +included many of Jacob's callers who had, of course, forgotten +their suggestion to entertain Mildred Latham, in +honor of the beginning of the effort to secure aid for the +colored youth of the city.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span></p> + +<p>As they sat alone that evening, neither Wilson Jacobs +nor his sister offered any comment upon how they were +saved an embarrassing ordeal. They were both thinking, +thinking, and seeing, with their eyes full of tears, a chair +where one had sat and talked and laughed with them the +Sunday night before.</p> + +<p>Their hearts were heavy, very heavy, for, strangely +enough, they felt that Mildred Latham would never sit +in that chair again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIXTEEN_2" id="CHAPTER_SIXTEEN_2"></a>CHAPTER SIXTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>The Beast and The Jungle</i></p> + + +<p class="center">"REMEMBER THE SABBATH DAY AND KEEP IT HOLY"</p> + +<p>This was the inscription under a cartoon in the Effingham +Herald, one Sunday, following a Sunday when crime +seemed to have run riot. The cartoon pictured a huge +knife stuck into a human heart, and the moral was, that +on the Sabbath day, when its population was supposed +to be at pious worship, murder was un-Godly.</p> + +<p>The Sunday previous to this, seven different +murders had occurred in that many different parts of the +town. Sidney had read the accounts, and said nothing +when he saw they were all black people. Only one exception, +and that was one who had shot another, and in +attempting to escape, had been shot by the police.</p> + +<p>Thus was the condition of crime in Effingham. It was +a rare Sunday that didn't have five or six shootings, +killings and cutting affrays. The record for the previous +year showed more than three hundred murders, mostly +by Negroes upon each other, and in part by the police. +Eighty per cent of all murder in the city was among two-fifths +of the whole, or the Negro population. But what +surprised Wyeth was, that insofar as speaking of it as +an everyday occurrence, and something to be expected, +the colored people paid little attention to it.</p> + +<p>By this time, Wyeth had become known as a severe +critic. And, therefore, against colored people in their +effort for salvation, so the critics complained. There was +one, however, who saw beneath the surface, and who +said, in reply to the criticisms going the rounds, that +Wyeth was criticised, not for the criticisms, but for his +method of bringing the truth before the eyes which did +not wish to see it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span></p> + +<p>"We've tried every way possible to obtain a library," +said one.</p> + +<p>"What are some of the ways?" he inquired pointedly.</p> + +<p>"Well, for instance, we have asked the teachers to +each give a book for that purpose. We have almost two +hundred teachers in this town, and if each one gave a +book, and the preachers likewise, that would make considerable +of a library."</p> + +<p>"For sixty thousand people, yes." And under his +breath he added, "You fool!"</p> + +<p>"Why do you not write an editorial and bring attention +to the dreadful amount of crime that seems to have submerged +your population," he said one day to Mathews, +a very excellent writer.</p> + +<p>"I'm writing of what people are doing that is uplifting," +the other returned.</p> + +<p>"Do you not consider that all this murder the Negro +is committing, to the disgrace of the state, the city, the +county, and the race to which he belongs, is a thing that +requires some effort, or some comment on our part as +citizens of this commonwealth?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but the best colored people don't care to read of +that," he explained.</p> + +<p>"But it's a fact, is it not; and one that is going forth +every day through the columns of the big dailies, and a +fact that the public is making record of, and holds up +to the gaze of the world, and gives this town the name +of being the most uncivilized community in the country?"</p> + +<p>"There is, of course, Mr. Wyeth, no use in trying to +argue these things with you," complained the other. +"About town, although you have been here only a short +time, you are regarded as a contentious person, always +forcing your way of seeing things upon people, and +criticising our teachers and preachers and best people for +their lack of concern, in regard to a lot of criminal Negroes, +that find their way to this town, from every convict camp +in the state and other states. If you would struggle to +get into society and mingle with the best people, you +would forget what these brutes are doing. Instead of +that, you can always be seen standing at a distance, +viewing all of us as one."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Abraham Lincoln, our emancipator, said: 'This +country cannot continue with one part of the people free +and the other in serfdom, and thrive.' I am wholly at a +loss to understand this attitude of what you term the +'best people' toward the masses." Wyeth persisted, +thoroughly aroused. "We complain of the injustice of +prejudice, which is well worth the complaint. But, while +we see that the white people refuse to accept us on an +equal basis with themselves, we cry out about the 'best +people.' We cannot expect the world to accept us as a +race on the reputation of a precious few. And yet right +here in this town, on all sides, among the 'best people' +we hear that 'you' cannot be responsible for the condition +of the great herd. I do not think you are expected +to by the public; but what stirs me, fires me sometimes +to denunciation, is this utter disregard for the evil things +in which our people indulge themselves, to the disgrace +of all."</p> + +<p>"Have it your way, Mr. Wyeth," said the other, +resignedly. "That is the reputation you have, 'having +your way.'"</p> + +<p>This was the end of that, but not of murder. Everywhere +it continued.</p> + +<p>Wyeth went to the churches. He listened to the +sermons; and at the drug store, where the more logical +members of the city could often be found, he met the +same condition. Nobody was worried. Nobody cared. +Just as long as their own affairs were going along in a +satisfactory manner, no complaint was forthcoming. +And, as time went on, Wyeth took notice that everybody +carried a revolver. One evening, at the drug store, someone +displayed a revolver of a new type, which brought +about some comment. Forthwith, among the twelve +present, ten additional revolvers were produced and displayed, +Wyeth being the only one not possessing one. +He was looked at in surprise, and made the object of +much comment.</p> + +<p>"Why, I wouldn't go from here home one night, without +my cannon," said the druggist. A prominent doctor +smiled grimly, as he pocketed his, while others laughed +and patted their weapons fondly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You from out of the west and haven't a gun. Man, +you are crazy," laughed one. "You better send out west +there, and have them send on that dungeon."</p> + +<p>"I never owned a gun in my life."</p> + +<p>"What! Been living out in that wild country these +many years, and never owned a cannon! What kind of +people do you have out there?"</p> + +<p>"Civilized people."</p> + +<p>"Uh, well, I ain' never been without a smoker, believe +muh."</p> + +<p>"He'll be carrying one before he's here long," laughed +a physician, as they filed out into the night.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>More conspicuously here than elsewhere he had been, +Wyeth saw that the undertaking business thrived better +in this city than any other conducted by colored people. +A half dozen companies were incorporated, with a paid-up +capital stock, and declared handsome dividends +every six months. And each company owned one or +more ambulance carriages, or "dead wagons," as they +were commonly called as they moved busily about the +streets, picking up wounded and dead Negroes. Almost +daily they whirled through the town at break-neck speed, +to the tune of a dreadful alarm.</p> + +<p>Then Wyeth began to see, without looking, why crime +thrived. The mills, coal mines and furnaces employed +thousands of men, as we know, and paid them at various +times. And to a saloon they filed and drank their fill. +In his observations, Wyeth had never seen saloons do +such an excessive bottle business. Great cases, the +length of the bar in many instances, and piled everywhere, +were half pints of liquor. A man said to him one day, +"You'll find, upon searching the ignorant Negro, three +things almost any time: A bottle of booze, which might +be empty if you searched him at his work—a cannon, if +not, it is because he is not able to possess one—a knife, +with a blade long enough to go through you—additionally, +a pair of dice."</p> + +<p>But it was not at the saloons that they bought all the +whiskey, regardless of the great number in sight. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +barrel houses and wholesale stores were operated in connection +therewith. Here the tiger conductors purchased +their supplies, which consisted mostly of whiskey, and the +cheapest available, which was, to be exact, a dollar and a +half a gallon; but, if bought in smaller quantities, it came +at forty cents a quart; while the beer used by the tigers was +so cheap that finally, no label was used on the bottle. And +it was this kind, he learned, the tiger people used almost +exclusively. It was likewise, this kind that produced the +most fighting drunks, and was sold after midnight—Saturday +night. So, on the outside of a good supply of drink +and a crap game in sight, crime ran high in this city, and +was ever in continuance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN_2" id="CHAPTER_SEVENTEEN_2"></a>CHAPTER SEVENTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>This Is Mr. Winslow, Madam!</i>"</p> + + +<p>After his conflict with Moore, Legs took a silent pledge; +he would quit gambling and drinking, and start a bank +account. "I'm going to use some sense and save my +money," he declared, with much sincerity. "There is +nothing like a few dollars, in case of emergency."</p> + +<p>"If you stick to that theory in practice, Legs," Wyeth +corroborated, "you'll never have cause to regret it."</p> + +<p>He started the same at once, with one dollar. The +next week he added another, which made two, and was +jubilant. The next week he added another, and at the +end of four weeks, had five dollars to his credit, and was +discussing investments. "I'm going to buy me a house +and lot by and by," he said, laughing over his prospects.</p> + +<p>"I own the L. & N. R.R.," cried a dirty, black, fat +Negro, coming up the street. "Haf a the A.G.S. too!"</p> + +<p>"That's Sam," said the Mis', coming to the door at +that moment. "Ever since a white man took his wife, +they say he's been like that. He imagines he owns railroads, +and if you happen to be going by the station, you +can see him standing gazing at the trains, with a foreign +expression."</p> + +<p>"Git that car back on the right switch there! Flag +that engine, and make them push that section to the left! +All right. Now, pull her ahead. That's all."</p> + +<p>"How-do, Sam," she greeted him as he came abreast. +He halted a moment, and gazed at her remonstratingly.</p> + +<p>"This is Mr. Winslow, madam. Always address me as +such, and in that manner hereafter. I am Mr. Winslow, +understand, and I own the L. & N. R.R."</p> + +<p>"And the A.G.S.?"</p> + +<p>"Own haf a that too."</p> + +<p>"And the T.C.I. Company?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They wanted to sell it to me. I wouldn't buy it. +Come on there with that train, engineer. Drop that car +on siding G. Now, switch that other chain around on +track E.</p> + +<p>"Say, Books," laughed Legs. "If you want a get rich, +quit the book business, and run into a train with your +head. That guy is certainly rich."</p> + +<p>"He carries on that way all the time," the Mis' explained. +"But he is sane otherwise, that is, he is harmless +and lives with his mother down the street a few +doors. He goes errands, and you can give him as much +as twenty dollars to buy a nickel's worth, and he'll bring +back nineteen dollars and ninety five cents. No one can +beat him, and he is as honest as the most conservative."</p> + +<p>"Let's go to a movie, Books," said Legs, when Sam +had disappeared.</p> + +<p>"All right," and together, they went down the street +in the direction of the business district. When they had +arrived at one of the three shows, the pictures did not +appeal to them, and they strolled about the town.</p> + +<p>The bank, conducted by Negroes, was near the center +of the block, and cornered on the alley, and on either +side of this was business conducted by or for Negro +trade. Within a block of the bank, was located the three +shows; and while operated and owned by white men, +were patronized entirely by Negroes. It was a puzzle +to Wyeth to see his people operating banks with more +success than they could picture shows, clothing stores, +and even hotels. This was the case not only in Effingham, +but in other cities as well. The bank and the +neighborhood immediately surrounding it, was the center +for Negro gatherings, and upon this street might be +found a crowd at any time. Almost every other door +seemed to be a restaurant, and operated by Greeks. In +fact, this line of business was, apparently, monopolized +by these people all over the country. Wyeth saw that +this was due to social reasons. A Greek or an Italian, or +even a poor Jew, operating a business like a grocery store, +or any kind of business, employing less than ten thousand +dollars capital stock, lived much within his means;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> +whereas, a colored man in the same business, invariably +was, through the connections of his family, a leader in +society. These Greeks did not even pretend such a +thing, even in a small way among their own, which made +a great difference at the end of each year. None of this +class referred to would think of owning an automobile; +whereas, such an asset is common among these black +people. Hence, a Negro in any business other than a +barbershop, bootblack stand, pressing shop, or business +requiring a considerable amount of practical ability, +was a rare thing.</p> + +<p>Being in business, he is looked to to spend more money, +as well. This, Wyeth had found, was not always his +preference; but his wife and family usually represented +the better colored people, and, therefore, are expected to +entertain; are made the object of much flattery and +ostentation. There was one who ran a grocery near Miss +Palmer's, whom, Wyeth recalled, was the object of much +scorn, when discussed. More than once, when he suggested +a purchase of a watermelon, or soda water, or some +refreshment that might be obtained at a grocery store, +he was advised against patronizing the "chinse" on the +corner, meaning the colored grocery keeper. And he +came to learn, that the only excuse for such a reference, +was that he didn't "keep" his wife in society, but made +her "slave" in his little old store along with himself.</p> + +<p>For this, he was given as little of their trade as possible; +but, with careful application and perseverance, he was +succeeding to a creditable degree. But the most extraordinary +feature of this was, that the druggist received +no more of this class of trade, than did the grocery keeper, +notwithstanding the fact that he was high in society, and +was positively of their point of view. Wyeth passed +much of his spare time talking with the grocery man, and +came to find him a most obliging man in every way. +When he was informed that Wyeth was selling a book by +a Negro, he instructed him to bring him one forthwith, +and which he was glad to own, and read it through at +once.</p> + +<p>So it came to pass, that in all he saw, Wyeth found<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +many honest and unassuming people, and whose interest +in the race did not end with a few sweet words and a +shrug of the shoulders.</p> + +<p>Many colored men were actually succeeding in the +grocery business in Effingham, and many of them were +referred to as "chinse's," by those purporting to be +leaders in society.</p> + +<p>Getting back to Sidney Wyeth and Legs, who were uptown +for the purpose of attending a picture show. Two +of the three shows were operated by the same company, +and the playhouses were referred to as capital number +one, and capital number two. They were in separate +blocks. Legs and Wyeth had been to capital number one, +and were turning in the direction of the other, when +some excitement was in evidence in that direction. +They joined in the crush, and were just in time to see an +altercation between a man and a woman, a nice looking +woman, brown-skinned, with an unusually heavy head of +hair. The man appeared to have called the woman, and +was desirous of remonstrating with her about something +to which she took exception. She turned to go, and it +was then that, like a flash, he drew a long, keen-bladed +knife from his pocket, and, without a word, drove it to +the hilt in her breast. She walked calmly, perhaps a +half dozen steps, and than, with a sudden clutching at +the air, she cried: "Oh, I'm so sick!" Wyeth saw her +eyes for one moment, and the next, she reeled about, and +fell dead at the feet of the crowd.</p> + +<p>The murderer saw her, and it was only when she fell, +that he appeared to take any notice of the fact that he +had committed murder. He now turned and fled up the +alley, while the Negroes about him fell back.</p> + +<p>"There goes the beast!" cried Legs, pointing him out +to Wyeth, and the next moment they followed in close +pursuit. A cry from the crowd went up as they disappeared. +It warned them that they would be dealt with +likewise, but they heeded it not.</p> + +<p>They ran up the alley that opened ahead into a wide +street. The murderer led them at considerable distance, +and, as they hurried after him, they saw his head turning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +from left to right, evidently looking for some opening +in which to escape. But their pursuit was too close. +Arriving at the end of the alley, he halted one brief +moment, and then turned south.</p> + +<p>This street fell rapidly a block, and reached a level in +a railroad yard, where long trains of cars stood silently +in the pale moonlight. To these he now ran, not looking +back at his pursuers. A few minutes later, he had, for a +time, disappeared from view behind a car. But determined, +with their blood now boiling, the two flew on +after him. When they got inside the yards, they caught +a glimpse of him crawling along to the other side of a +line of cars, to which was hitched an engine.</p> + +<p>A moment later, this began to move, and, suddenly, +while they were yet some distance away, he swung aboard +one of the cars and stood on the bumpers. They hurried +forward, and caught a car each, a few cars to the rear; +while the speed of the train increased. In a few minutes +it was flying, and they were hanging dangerously to the +side. With quick intuition, Wyeth climbed to the top of +the train, and called to Legs when he stood over him, to +do likewise. Hurriedly, Legs clambered to the top. As +he settled panting on top of the moving train, in the rear +and hurrying forward, the light of a brakeman approached. +They darted forward, looking carefully between the cars, +to ascertain which contained the fugitive. The train +now hurried around a bend toward the outskirts of the +town, and, as it did so, they saw the creature drop suddenly +from between the cars and roll over the embankment, +and down the grade which was, perhaps, at this +point twenty odd feet.</p> + +<p>The train was tearing along now at a speed that made +it positively dangerous to alight. Still, the light of the +brakeman was only a few cars away, and, inasmuch as +they would most likely be severely dealt with if found, +they were, for the moment, at a loss what to do. The +fugitive had now arisen, and was running again to safety. +All they had seen before the electric show now came +back to them, and, without regard for the risk they were +taking, they quickly clambered to the bottom and fell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> +off the train, just as a curse greeted their ears from the +brakeman above.</p> + +<p>A moment later, the roar of the train was lost in the +distance, and they were alone, but, fortunately, uninjured. +The fugitive had, apparently, made good his +escape. Disgusted and disgruntled, they started back +down the track in the direction from whence they had +come. They had gone, it seemed perhaps a half mile, +when suddenly a groan came to their ears. They stopped +and listened.</p> + +<p>From near where a few stray hedge and weeds had +grown up and were tangled and enmeshed, they caught +the outline of a man, stretched apparently helpless therein. +They hurried forward, Legs in the lead. As they did so, +he sighed perceptibly. Legs had now reached the man, +and was in the act of bending over him, when Wyeth +grabbed him from the rear and jerked him quickly back; +but he was in time to save him from the other, who had, +like a flash, sprung up and lunged forward with upraised +knife.</p> + +<p>Having missed, the murderer tumbled forward on his +face, and bit the cinders, while Legs raised himself off +Wyeth, who had been pushed backward and down by the +sudden collision. The other had gained his feet, however, +before they got their wits together, and with a mad +curse he tore down the tracks. As Wyeth raised himself, +his fingers encountered a piece of cinder, heavy with +iron. Unconsciously, his fingers encircled it, and when +they again started in pursuit, he grasped it.</p> + +<p>"We'll kill that beast as he killed that woman," cried +Legs, panting dreadfully, but more determined now than +ever. With a clear track, and nothing to obstruct the +speed, it was now evidently only a question of minutes +until they must surely overcome the other who was +shorter, and whose speed had become noticeably slower. +Legs had got within a few feet of him, when suddenly +he stopped short and whirled about. Too late! Legs +seemed doomed to meet the point of the upraised knife +that glistened in the moonlight. Wyeth at that moment +saw the danger of his companion, and, with a cry, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +hurled the cinder full at the crouching fugitive. It went +straight, and took the beast full in the face. With a cry, +the other fell backward across the track.</p> + +<p>Legs tumbled over his prostrate form, while, at that +moment, from down the track came the sound of an +approaching train. Both now looked up, and it was only +then they were aware that it was so near. They were +blinded by the light, but with a cry they sprang free, as +the light fell full upon the face of the fugitive, who at +that moment came to his senses. He staggered forward, +and then with a cry that rang above the roar of the +train, he stumbled forward, but in rising, one of his feet +had caught in a frog and held him fast. A screwing of +brakes could be heard, but in a moment the heavy engine +crushed over his writhing body, and mangled him until, +when he was taken from beneath it, he could not be +recognized.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Legs and Wyeth were present the next morning at the +inquest. There was no visible excitement over the death +of either. A small paragraph at the bottom of the back +page of the morning paper reported the death, by stabbing, +of a Negro woman; while a still smaller one made notice +of the death, in an unusual manner, of the murderer.</p> + +<p>And so it was in Effingham. If one desired notoriety +he had to do other than kill a Negro, or be killed by one. +For such was soon forgotten among other and more unusual +sensations.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN_2" id="CHAPTER_EIGHTEEN_2"></a>CHAPTER EIGHTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Thou Shalt Not Steal!</i>"</p> + + +<p>During Wyeth's canvass among his people, he had +become accustomed to regard men who indulged excessively +in drinking, as a problematical feature. And +when that same man gambled, in addition, and failed to +keep his word or oath, he was not in the least surprised. +And, moreover, when he became acquainted with a person +who loved liquor, gambled likewise, and who did not +struggle to secure a job, but was content to walk about +in perfect peace, without any effort in that direction, he +was not surprised if that person stole, in addition.</p> + +<p>The people he stopped with were, in a measure, secretive. +That is, they did not always take the trouble to +state where they purchased all they had about the +house. He took meals with them occasionally, and saw +them eating every day; and, although chicken was very +high, exceedingly high in Effingham, they had it every +day.</p> + +<p>The druggist, whose store was a block distant, had +inquired of them, and made known the fact that Moore +was indebted to him two fifty, but Wyeth paid little attention +to this, since, during the warm afternoons, under the +cool of the electric fan, he indulged in such reminiscences, +and Wyeth knew almost everybody who owed the druggist +anything, including Miss Palmer.</p> + +<p>Two robberies had occurred in less than two weeks at +the place, and both were shrouded in mystery. The first +had been explained away very reasonably. A window +that was almost hid by vines had been left open, and +through this, a "nigga," as they put it, had made his +entrance and gotten away, carrying with him a suit of +clothes belonging to one of the roomers, who kept himself +pretty well soaked with liquor; this roomer hap<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span>pened +to be employed at a wholesale liquor house, and +was, therefore, able to drink with economy. Sam was +his name, but he was not, however, the one who owned +the L. & N. R.R. But Sam was an easy go-lucky and +didn't care whether school kept or not; and, likewise, +didn't make a big noise if something did crawl in through +the window, and steal a new thirty-five dollar suit.</p> + +<p>As was stated, it was explained, John Moore lost an +old derby the same time—at least, this was how he +reported it. The green stain upon the window-sill, from +the vines his knees crushed, was further evidence of the +ingress and the egress. Considerable indignation was +shown by Moore, and a great many words were employed +over the affair; but, in due time it had died +away and was forgotten, when the second came to pass.</p> + +<p>The victim this time happened to be a gloomy and +forlorn creature, who could well boast that no miscegenation +had prostituted his ancestors, and whose teeth, in +the night, flashed like a diamond necklace. Griffin was +his name, and he did not shoot craps, or fight, or get +drunk, and Wyeth didn't think he drank, until he saw +the Mis' go to make his bed one day, and, in turning +back the pillow, revealed a half pint of John.</p> + +<p>Griffin reported that it was employed as a medicine, +and Wyeth allowed it to go at that, but indulged a smile +upon Griffin that meant more. Wyeth had a way of +joking with the eyes that kept him out of difficulties, but +convicted and judged those near him, and they could +only laugh and look guilty.</p> + +<p>One of the other good things we know of Griffin, is +that he read the Bible, and nothing else, and said so; +moreover, he deplored the reading of anything else, +declaring it to be contrary to the laws of God. Griffin +rarely said Jesus, and never "Jaysus." And—yes, he +was a Sunday school teacher, and went to services to a +church that was at the other side of town; he shouted +when the preacher delivered a soul-stirring sermon, and +expected to go to Heaven when he died. Only one thing +did Griffin indulge in, though he was careful to keep that +to himself, and that was woman—but we are a long way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +from our story. And still, we cannot leave it, this part +of it, until we make known that she was a "high yellow" +which is perhaps unnecessary to state, for when the color +is like Griffins', they scorn all other kind.</p> + +<p>The robber this time employed a more machination +method, and he was a very congenial robber also. Out +of consideration for Griffin's regular attendance at +church, he left an old greasy suit that, due to the great +amount of the foreign matter it contained, was likely to +last him until finances would enable him to restock for +the benefit of the robber.</p> + +<p>This robbery occurred one night when he was away, +and did not return until the following morning, which +was in itself singular, for Griffin was rarely away. It +was, like the other, mysterious. Griffin was a miner, +and since he would not—so 'twas said—pay twenty-five +cents a week for warm water and a towel to clean himself +at the mines, he preferred to sleep in the kitchen, because +he was unfit to occupy any other portion of the house, +unless it was the attic. And since there was none to this +house, we leave him in the kitchen, where he slept in a +dirty, but warm bed, and kept his clothes—he had some +pride—in the strongest trunk Wyeth thought he had +ever seen. On the outside, he kept it locked with the +strongest Yale spring. With all the high-priced advertising +done in regard to the safety of such locks, this +robber didn't seem to give a hang, but, with a steel +poker, he had twisted and twisted, until Mr. Yale had +resigned himself to the inevitable, and permitted ingress. +Within were four nice, clean suits, awaiting Griffin's +subtle occasions.</p> + +<p>Legs, Wyeth and Glenview, who were very agreeable +roomers, didn't hear of it until the second morning. +And they might not have known then, if it had not +happened that they were together in the adjoining room, +and overheard Griffin crying over the loss. That happened +to be Friday. Legs had become something of a +hero, with his successful running down of the murderer, +and now played, very successfully, the part of a man. +Legs did not positively condone the light fingered method.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> +When they had been led, by their curiosity, to investigate, +and had returned to the room, he remarked:</p> + +<p>"It beats Hell the way this place continues to be +robbed!"</p> + +<p>"It is indeed singular," commented Glenview, whose +English was always the most careful. And he never +swore.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Legs again, "it <i>is</i> strange. So strange +that I'm getting suspicious," and he closed an eye +meaningly. "There's a man in the house who has not +worked this summer.... He cannot <i>seem</i> to get the +kind of work he follows, true; but the fact to be considered, +is that he <i>has</i> not worked this summer. He +likes to gamble, and is particularly fond of liquah...."</p> + +<p>There was a pause, and he closed that eye again, and +looked across at Glenview. Glenview closed an eye and +looked at Wyeth. Wyeth held his open, but did some +rapid thinking. He now recalled that, upon entering, +the robber had cut the screen, it was shown to them; +but now as he remembered it, the ends of the wires where +the screen had been cut pointed outward.... Also, it was +reported to have been cut with a hatchet; and the +hatchet was on the ground near the window, which was +logical.... It was very strange indeed, this robbery.... +Legs was speaking again:</p> + +<p>"This man who has been out of work all summer, at +least has not worked all summer, and who loves liquah +better than I do, and who could shoot craps forever and +be happy, sleeps within four feet of that trunk. The +only thing between him and the trunk is a door that has +not been closed this summer.... And who, moreover, if +you will recall," he closed that eye again and held it so a +second, "awakens always when we enter late at night, +and inquires, 'who goes there.' <i>And this man slept +through all this with the trunk almost against his head, and +didn't hear it being opened.</i>" He paused again and closed +that eye, it was the right; Glenview closed his left, +Wyeth closed his too. From the other room came sighs, +and a restless turning on the bed where some one lay. +On the front porch, John Moore sat with the Bible open +before him....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Have you observed," said Glenview, in his Englishy +way, "that the ones who have been robbed, are those +most likely to take <i>his</i> story about it, and are not capable +of investigating on their own initiative?" Three eyes +closed simultaneously. "For instance," he resumed, +"there's Sam, always full you know; when I inquired +what he had done about it, he replied that he had inquired +of one pawnbroker—and you know there are perhaps a +hundred in this town—if any one had offered a suit as +security for a loan that fit that description. Think of it! +And now here comes the instance of this old creature we +hear sighing in the kitchen; and who reads nothing but +the Bible, and goes to church on Sunday. He hasn't +sense enough, and nerve, he doesn't know; he has perhaps +called on the Lord to restore those things. Why +haven't some of our things been stolen?" ... Again +three eyes closed, while memories became the order; +the memory of Wyeth's conflict, and they didn't forget +that of Legs. "We leave them laying around, and none +of us lock our trunks.... You," he said, seeing Legs, +"have more suits than any of us, and they hang on the +wall...."</p> + +<p>John Moore had fallen asleep and the Bible had tumbled +to the floor. A street car line came past the door, and +the cars, when passing, filled the house with noise. One +passed at this moment, and he was suddenly awakened. +Looking about hastily for the Bible he had held, he saw +it on the floor at his feet. He stooped to pick it up, +and as he did so, saw that it was open. As his hand +touched it, his eyes lit upon a chapter, whereupon he +straightened up quickly. A moment later he picked it +up, and rising, entered the house.</p> + +<p>The words of the chapter that had disconcerted him +for the moment were: "<i>Thou Shalt Not Steal!</i>"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_NINETEEN_2" id="CHAPTER_NINETEEN_2"></a>CHAPTER NINETEEN</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>They Turned Her Out of Church</i></p> + + +<p>Saturday night of that week was a beautiful night, and +everybody sought the open air—no, almost everybody. +There were a few that didn't, in fact they sought the +closed inside for a purpose.</p> + +<p>Murphy had a good crowd, for it was pay day, and +everything was "sliding" along O.K. Glenview, who +had purchased a new novel from Wyeth, who bought +them and sold the same at a discount when he had read +them, was there too. So was John Moore, <i>he</i> was always +there. Wyeth was below, and so was Legs, for, strange +as it may seem, he had kept his pledge thus far. He was +glad of it, too, which is ahead of our story. Easy.</p> + +<p>A game was on, a big game, and darkies were uncoated; +perspiration flowed freely. Wyeth retired about +twelve, or it might have been earlier—it makes little +difference. The game was on, and so was somebody else. +Wyeth felt himself being shook, but could not seem to +awaken at once. Words came to his ears, and it was the +voice of Legs that spoke:</p> + +<p>"Get up," it said, in subdued excitement. "Get up, +you fool."</p> + +<p>"Go to the devil! Are you crazy? Don't awaken me. +I'm tired and want to rest," he answered unconsciously.</p> + +<p>"I said, arise—at once. Somethin' doin'."</p> + +<p>"Will you go to the devil, or shall I hit you in the ear +and dispatch you forthwith! I want to rest, you pair of +Legs."</p> + +<p>"Listen! Listen! Hear them, Books!"</p> + +<p>Books heard something, but he didn't know what it +was; moreover, he didn't care—in fact, he didn't want +to hear. He wanted to sleep. It was a fine night for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +sleeping, too. The soft air floated in through the window +at his head, and the vines and garden the Mis' raised, +and which grew within a few feet of him, perfumed it +with nature's own. Why should he be concerned about +what went on up in Murphy's den. He kicked at Legs, +when he repeated.</p> + +<p>Legs went into the other room, but the noise from +above persisted.</p> + +<p>"Look out there, nigger!" it said. "Don't start +nothing, don't start nothing! Get around there, you, +beside that other nigger! Now, here, you, ink, put these +cuffs on the two niggers against the wall. Right around +the wrists, you fool. I've put them on you often enough +for you to know that they don't go on the shoulders. +And don't be so damn nervous. You shiver around +there as though it was the first time you've been arrested. +Are you done? Well, stand over in that row beside them +other niggers! Don't think because I know you that you +c'n ease out that window. And don't figure I'm going +to play any pets! Heah! Heah! You little black rat! +You, I say, with the pop peepers! If you try any monkey +foolishness, I'll put'm out, I'll put'm out! Hear that +nigger, hear that! I'll shoot you nigger, I'll shoot you!"</p> + +<p>"Hear'm Books, hear'm! It's the police. They're +upstairs. They're making a raid. Hear'm Books!" +came Leg's voice, as he came back to where Wyeth lay. +Sidney had awakened now. Sitting up in bed, he listened +to the voices that came down from upstairs. It was still +a little vague, but Legs spoke again:</p> + +<p>"They are coming down now." And so they were. +A noise of many feet tramping about, began to file downward +on the rickety steps.</p> + +<p>"Wait, Frank," came a voice. "Let me out on the +front, so I can hold a gun on these niggers. Now come +ahead. Now, niggers, the first one that makes a break, +remember, out goes his light, bingo!"</p> + +<p>"Mary, oh, Mary, bring me my coat and hat." Wyeth +was dressed now and peeping out the window. Yes, it +was John Moore, and he wanted his coat and hat. He +was going away, on a journey. The Mis', very much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> +frightened, hurried forward, and held them out to him. +He placed the hat on his head, and took the coat on his +arm. He wore cuffs, so that made a difference.</p> + +<p>The Mis' fell into the room a moment later, and gave +up to silent anguish. It was not the first time she had +witnessed a raid. Sometimes Wyeth felt sorry for her. +For, once upon a time she had been a good woman, she +was yet when she could be. At least she was always +kind; but when liquor was voted out of the state some +years before, he, her husband then, took up the sale of +it, contrary to the law. He had been caught once, and +then twice. He had then been caught the third time. +The third time is when you go to the mines. You may +never return from these places, so 'tis said. "They kill +you out there," is what John Moore had told him once, +grimly. "Yes, they <i>kill</i> you out there. It's <i>Hell</i>!"</p> + +<p>They killed the Mis's husband. And she had a son, +and he sold liquor too. He was a dissipated youth. The +mines had him six months. They gave him back to her. +T.B. He died. And at this time she mourned his loss. +She was now alone in the world. She had, at first, made +an honest living, and was a member of the A.M.E. +church. She became acquainted with John Moore. +Well, they turned her out of church some time afterward. +They would have done so sooner, but she was +pitied, and black people have sympathy—even for criminals. +The Mis' had lost her husband, and then her son +and—but they turned her out of church. That's bad. +Oh, it's awful bad to be turned out of church. Black +faces, crooked often, regard one with dark suspicion when +he is turned out of church, especially if a woman.</p> + +<p>And now they had <i>him</i>. The other, her consort, for +such he was, because you see, be merciful, she was a +human being.... And all human beings cry out for love, +yes, <i>love</i>....</p> + +<p>"Take along his Bible, Mis'," grinned Legs. And +then he looked at her.... Yes, Legs knew the story +too.... He was sorry, terribly sorry. They were all +sorry for the Mis'.</p> + +<p>Legs and Wyeth now stood on the outside. It was +safe now. They watched the arrangement.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span></p> + +<p>Four abreast they now stood lined in four rows. They +were all handcuffed together. John Moore was there, +bringing up the rear. Murphy was, too. Being the man +of the house, he was honored with a place at the front. +And behind these sixteen men, walked his honor, the +police. And so very insignificant they were, apparently. +Yet, they were the <i>law</i>! And that means more than our +pen can describe here.</p> + +<p>Black people claim to fear God and no other. They +don't. The most of them do not understand it in a +larger sense. No. But, notwithstanding the fact that, +in Dixie they are forever breaking it, they <i>do</i> fear the +law—and the white man.</p> + +<p>They filed now, a row at a time, and a few feet apart, +across the street. Under the flaring electric street lamp +they passed, some bareheaded, but all downcast, discouraged +and remorseful. Oh, this was the law. The +law of Effingham declared: "Thou must not game!" +In the middle of the street they walked, and a few minutes +later, they passed under the light of the lamp at the next +intersection, and disappeared in the direction of the +station. And it was only then, Wyeth recalled, that +among them he had not observed Glenview. He was +not there, he was positive; and yet he was at the game. +Where was he? Where did he go?</p> + +<p>He turned his eyes in the direction of the rear, and at +that moment Glenview walked into view.</p> + +<p>"You!" cried many voices, for a curious crowd of +crooks had gathered. Good people had long since retired.</p> + +<p>"Well?" he smiled.</p> + +<p>"Well...."</p> + +<p>"I'm <i>here</i>. Not <i>there</i>!" And his eyes went in the +direction of the others, who were now passing under +another light, into a bigger light.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"I saw they were nothing but a pair of snots."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"The window was open."</p> + +<p>"The window?"</p> + +<p>"And the <i>outside</i> air was <i>very</i> inviting. Much more +than that <i>other</i>."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh...." It was becoming clear to all now. The +Mis' looked disappointed. Sometimes she had not liked +Glenview.... He winked and went to the front of the +house.</p> + +<p>"Well," sighed the Mis', resignedly. "They certainly +got a bunch of them," and then laughed, a laugh that +Wyeth had heard before and knew. Not a cheerful +laugh, but a dry, hard laugh. One that was possible +after years of bitterness.</p> + +<p>By this time, a score or more Negroes, denizens of the +night, had gathered and were exchanging opinions, offering +theories, and executing objections.</p> + +<p>"Some low down nigga done turned'm up." This was +what a large Negress, with imposing hips, was saying. +She sold liquor across the way, and conducted a house +for any kind of purpose.</p> + +<p>"Some doity li'l' stool pigeon," added another, who +was more doubtful still. Wyeth regarded them a moment +in disgust. They were dressed as they were when they +arose that morning or that afternoon, or whenever it was, +which was not in the last hour or two.</p> + +<p>It was Glenview who detailed the raid now at some +length. "A big Negro was shooting for three dollars. A +little guy, who appeared to be very drunk, kept making +a fuss, finally asking to be let out. He went, and when +Murphy opened the street door for that purpose, well, in +walked the bulls—no, the little snots."</p> + +<p>"I'm going upstairs to see how it looks after the +scramble," said he, and a moment later his feet were +heard in that direction. He had no sooner hit the landing, +than from above came a dreadful noise. A crashing of +window panes indicated that someone was trying to get +out of the window. A table turned over with considerable +objections, judging from the noise it made. The +whatever-it-was appeared to be coming toward the stair +in post haste now. Chairs were cast aside, without care +of how they might land, and then it appeared on the +landing. A moment later it came down, much a tumble, +and not in the usual way. Hands and legs and feet +seemed altogether, as they did many stunts on the way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> +down. Eyes were opened wide, while breaths were held, +as the spectacle was observed closely. And then it landed. +One moment it lingered, and made a funny picture for +the many eyes. Then it became erect—and behold! +It was a man.</p> + +<p>But he hadn't taken the time to dress entirely. He +had, upon coming down, or deciding to do so, donned +only a coat; while his large, loose knee lengths stood out +conspicuously from the small legs, that reminded one of +pipe stems, smoked ones—coming out of huge corn cobs.</p> + +<p>It came about when Glenview ascended the stair, and +met it in the act of looking about to ascertain whether +the coast was clear.</p> + +<p>For a time that may have been a second, possibly more, +he stood hesitant. Wild of eye and trembling in the legs, +but conspicuous to a humorous degree, he soon came to +appreciate the spectacle he made, and forthwith betook +himself hurriedly back up the steps; but, alas! Not +many had he ascended when he made a miss, and, with +a smothered, embarrassed cry, he fell, and the next +moment came back.</p> + +<p>While all this performing was going on, he was not +aware that the officers had long since departed. And +when he again landed at the feet of his onlookers, who +were now given over to a fit of snickers, he cried in a subdued, +but intensely excited voice: "Don't let them get +me! Don't let them get me!" He was wild, as he hesitated +before attempting to return. And in the meantime, +he whined like a poor thing, which made the Negroes +who stood about, give up to loud laughing.</p> + +<p>At last, he was calmed to a point where he took himself +hurriedly up the stairs, and disappeared. And then +there was another commotion! Apparently the house +was coming down, from the scrambling, and the way +chairs, and beds, and tables—and everything seemed to +be turning over.</p> + +<p>"Say, say!" came the voice of Glenview. "The +officers have disappeared a half hour ago. Be quiet. +Those are not officers below. They are curiosities." But +it was some time before he was able to communicate this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> +fact to a point that brought quiet. When he presently +emerged, the onlookers saw not two, Glenview and the +other, but five. They slipped down the steps like ghosts, +looked wildly about for one brief second, and then +melted into the night like vampires.</p> + +<p>As they floated away, some one recognized one and +called him out by name, and these words came back to +those who listened:</p> + +<p>"Hush calling my name, you fool!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The plate at the head of the table was not turned that +morning. The Mis', notwithstanding the words she +uttered when the raid had been made: "I'm glad of it! +It'll stop that gambling, and I hope, Murphy's whiskey +selling," she was, nevertheless, sad-eyed, and all upset. +All that day she so remained, grew worse, if anything.</p> + +<p>"Don't worry, Mis'," comforted Glenview kindly. "As +soon as some word comes from them, I'll hustle about +and secure bail." But it was late in the morning before +any word came, and then, alas! It was a surprise.</p> + +<p>There is a law in regard to gaming in Effingham, which +makes the penalty heavier if caught gaming during the +week; whereas, it is lighter for Sunday. Therefore, +being well aware of the fact, no serious anticipation was +held as to how the gamesters would be dealt with, since +they had been caught after midnight Saturday night. +In fact, when the excitement attendant with the raid had +passed, those directly interested, looked hourly for those +who were caught, to be released.</p> + +<p>"What'll it cost them under this law?" inquired Wyeth +of Glenview, who appeared to be fairly well informed +regarding the matter.</p> + +<p>"Oh, not much," he replied. "Perhaps five or six +dollars. You see," he explained, "the city considers +gambling through the week as a business indulged in by +professionals; whereas Sunday, they construe that they +may be workmen engaged in a pastime."</p> + +<p>Wyeth understood, of course, but it appeared singular +at first.</p> + +<p>"They will be taken to the city lock-up," Glenview +resumed, "and if collateral to the amount of twenty-five<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> +dollars be offered and approved, they will be allowed +to return, and when they appear tomorrow morning, they +will be fined five dollars and cost. If they were caught +during the week, it would be ten and cost, and possibly +more, depending."</p> + +<p>It was at the end of this conversation that they got +their surprise.</p> + +<p>Murphy came in. He seemed tired and worn; he was +a picture, in fact, of the result of such a raid. He sat +himself down with a sigh that was not altogether one of +relief. All waited, with drawn breath.</p> + +<p>"That's the worst place I have seen the inside of," he +said, and shook his head in emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Where did the wagon pick you fellows up?" inquired +Glenview. "I don't recall hearing any."</p> + +<p>"No wagon picked us up. We walked all the way. +They didn't carry us to the city pen, but to the county +jail."</p> + +<p>"What!" cried the Mis', while Glenview appeared to +regard it with incredulity.</p> + +<p>And then all were silent, with a cold feeling creeping +through their veins, as the grim reality came upon them. +It would now be thirty-seven fifty, and not five dollars, for +the county made no exception for Sunday.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>All the day through, John Moore raised from his hard +seat, and gazed out through the heavy bars that penned +him in. "Will they never come, will they never come!" +he cried to himself, but only the heat and multitudes of +Negroes greeted his gaze, as it eagerly sought the door +to freedom.</p> + +<p>And all day Glenview walked from one bondman to +another.</p> + +<p>"No," said the wealthiest Negro doctor, who had +bailed out many. "I've quit going anybody's bond. I +don't think, from the experience I have had, that I +would be justified in going my brother's hereafter." He +had a few to jump them, and it cost him a pretty penny, +he afterwards told Wyeth, to get them back.</p> + +<p>"He's worthless," said the druggist, apparently amused, +at least satisfied with his solution for the present. "He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> +owes me two fifty for medicine I sold him, and trusted +to my sorrow. But I'll tell you what I will do." He changed +his tone to one of thought, then went on. "Now +you tell the Mis' if she will come down here and give +me seven fifty, five of this is going the bond that'll put +the thief on the street, because it is he who has been +doing that stealing up there, and all of you don't seem +to know it, and the remainder, two fifty, is what he owes +me. Tell her to bring it to me in cash, understand, +the long green, and out he comes, to go back soon where +he ought to be, for he has honestly no right to be free."</p> + +<p>Of course, Mis' never had such an amount, so Moore, +insofar as this source was concerned, was doomed to stay +in the hot place for some time. Glenview went to another.</p> + +<p>"That nigga! Hell! Why I wouldn't go his bond to +stay in Heaven, he is so crooked and undependable."</p> + +<p>That was the end of it for that day, and the night +settled down.</p> + +<p>It would cost ten dollars cash to secure release through +professional bondsmen; and, inasmuch as John had +not the tenth part of that, he reposed for several days +in his new place of abode, and became very dirty and +bedraggled in the meantime. Always so clean and tidy—thus +the Mis' kept him, that he was hardly recognizable, +when a few days afterward, he returned. It was Murphy +who secured bond, and Wyeth came upon him in some +surprise that evening. He sat quietly on the porch with +the Bible in his hand, so, greeting him, Wyeth asked how +he "liked" it. The other said:</p> + +<p>"Whew! The worse place I was ever in." He had +been in them before, but not this one; but he did not, +of course, deem it necessary to make this mention. It +had been made by others. "Two hundred nigga's in the +room I was in, and God knows how many more elsewhere. +And they were one-armed and one-legged, one-eyed +and toothless, earless and one-eared; but the whole +bunch, every one of them, were filthy. And the place +was rotten!"</p> + +<p>Yet more than five hundred Negroes, most of them +young men, preferred the place to freedom.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY_2" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY_2"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>"I Love You!" She Said</i></p> + + +<p>Miss Annie Palmer had about despaired of winning +Sidney Wyeth, and by this time was not nearly so considerate +when he called, as she had been some weeks +before. And, besides, Wyeth had an insistent way of +seeing things, which was not the custom of her friends. +When he called, sometimes, instead of giving up to the +easier things in life, and which concerned the select few, +he was liable to bring up a subject concerning the future +of the Negro of the south, as he is today, etc., etc., etc. +So it came to pass, that Miss Palmer was only good at +times; and at those times, she was liable to be good by +fits and starts, and then she "got cranky." Notwithstanding +the fact, they were still friends, nothing more, +and, as Miss Palmer sometimes sighed to herself, "Will +never be anything more."</p> + +<p>"You were, I thought," she declared one day, "the +sweetest kind of a boy. But of late you are so concerned +about Y.M.C.A.'s, and libraries, and schools, and the +like, for our people, and how many are being killed and +all that, that I am sometimes serious in my belief that +you are losing your mind."</p> + +<p>"I came to show you the article in <i>The Herald</i>, by the +park commissioner, with regard to the establishing of a +park for Negroes. I suppose you have read it? I am +certainly glad to know that you have white people in +your city, who are showing some interest in the civic +welfare of our race; and from what he has suggested, +with regard to this park for our people, to be centrally +located, there is conclusive evidence, that the white +people are coming to appreciate that the evolution of +these black people can be brought about otherwise than +in the chain gang."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Please don't today, Mr. Wyeth, please don't," she begged. +"Promise just once that you will try to be, if it's only +for a minute, as you were when I became acquainted +with you. Let's drop this matter about the park and all +that today. These Negroes here would do nothing with +a park but fight in it. And a library, they don't read; +so what's the use." She came to him, and before he +could say a word in protest, she had gotten on the davenport, +and beside him very closely. In that moment, +Miss Palmer felt that she wanted to hear him say something +about her.</p> + +<p>"Listen," she said, in a voice that was full of feigned +passion. "Do you care for me?" It was so sudden that +he did not know how to accept it, whether as a joke or +serious. He had, of late, been backing up on the flirtation. +However, she was evidently serious, so, with a +jolly word, he talked with her at some length about +nothing. Presently she became meditative. She spoke +of her unhappy life with a sigh, and then fell to accounts +regarding her little boy.</p> + +<p>"My entire hope is centered in him. I intend to make +a doctor out of him, and to do that, I will have to work +hard and save money to put him through school when +he is grown up, and you see what that will call for."</p> + +<p>He was a lad of ten years, and the image of his mother. +The future of the American Negro was bright in his eyes; +and he assisted commerce to a degree, by consuming as +much coca cola as he could buy, with as many nickels as +he could gather; likewise, peanuts, crackerjack and +candies.</p> + +<p>"He's <i>some</i> boy," glowed Wyeth, enthusiastically. +"I wish I possessed a lad like him. I would feel proud."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't you like to have something to do with +him?" she said, and he replied jokingly:</p> + +<p>"Sure."</p> + +<p>She nestled close, very close. So close that he felt her +hot breath upon his cheek. "You do care for me a +little, don't you?" she almost implored. He was embarrassed, +but replied:</p> + +<p>"Of course, I <i>like</i> you."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I love you," she said. "I love you," she said again.</p> + +<p>"Ooh, mamma!" cried her son, at that moment. +"Come and see the funny man coming down the street. +Ooh, but he is so funny!" She moved away guiltily. +A moment later, he arose and took his leave.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-ONE_2" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-ONE_2"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Please Git d' Ole Man Outta Jail</i>"</p> + + +<p>"Ump-um-um! Man, you done bring dat book heah +t'day 'n' I ain' got a cent. Nary a cent!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you're a good joker," he laughed, depreciatingly. +"You drew four or five great big dollars Saturday +night, and I know you saved a part of it for the book, +as you said you would, didn't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yesser, yesser, ah knows ah said I would; but sumpin' +done happened since then; sumpin' I wa'n't figurin' on. +Sumpin' I sho wasn't lookin' fo'."</p> + +<p>"Oh...."</p> + +<p>"Yes," embarrassed. "Y'see, it's lak dis: Ma ole +man 'e went down town Sat'dy night 'n'—well, 'e got'n +a li'l trouble. Yes, lak a nigga, y' know. Got in dis heah +trouble, 'n it done took all I had t' get'm out; 'sides, I +did'n' have 'nough 'n' had t' borra frum ma whi' people."</p> + +<p>"That's too bad indeed," said Wyeth. Sometimes he +said this freely, and again, his voice carried a touch of +disappointment and impatience, because, sometimes he +met a half dozen such instances, when he went to deliver +on Monday. As a rule, and since he was by now accustomed +to it, he offered sympathy to the unfortunate +wife who had to pay so many fines, and went his way.</p> + +<p>"Yeh. 'Es allus gittin' in sumpin'. Las' yeah—ah +maybe 'twas las' month—'e got in jail, 'n' when I got 'im +out dat time, I swo' I's gwine let 'im stay du nex' time +'e went off'm heah and did'n' come back. 'N ah did'n' +get'im out right away dis time. Ah let'm stay tree days, +but 'e jes' keep sendin' up heah 'n' worrin' 'n' worrin' +th' life outta me—'n' I was worried anyhow—wi' 'Uh +please ole 'oman, jes' please come'in git du ole man +outta jail.' So 'e jes' promis' so faithful, 'n' jes' begged +so 'a'd until I was at last p'vailed on wi' du 'elp a-Jaysus,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> +t' git'im out jes' this time—'n' you c'n jes' depen' on it, +its the las' time I gi'n git dat no 'count nigga a-mine +outta dat place, so help me Jaysus, du las' time!" And +she bustled about her duties, with a determined set of +the head.</p> + +<p>"How did he come to get locked up this time?"</p> + +<p>"Ugh! Yes, yes. It's lak dis—so 'e said. 'E was +down t' a s'loon 'n' got t' argin' wid annuder nigga. 'N +so den, dis udder nigga done 'posed on 'im; 'n' den dey +got t' squabblin' 'n' d' p'lice dey runs in on'm 'n' line'm +up. So d' wagin come 'long 'n' hurried 'm up t' jail. +So, a'cose, Jedge Douglass 'e 'poses a big fine on'm and +dey is jes' waitin' fo' somebody t' come 'n' pay 'is fine, +'cause, y' see, I done paid it a-fore already. So dey is +jes' waitin' fo' me t' come 'n' pay it agin, 'n' don' send +dis nigga t' du stockade, 'cause dey's done got so many +triflin' nigga's out dare, until dey hates t' feed so many, +'n' wou' ruther git th' money 'f dey can."</p> + +<p>And thus it went. Wyeth found the women, in a great +measure, trying to do right, as they so regarded it. But +the men, from the saloon to a tiger, thoroughly soaked +themselves, regardless of the cost, so long as they had it. +And then, to a crap game, where they lost the remainder. +Evidently there must have been some winning; but +Wyeth never happened to find the winner. They were +all losers. If he had their orders and expected to deliver +the book, he had to plan to deliver the same on Saturday +night, and before they found the enticing game. +And for telling the truth, they drew the line on that—refused +to have anything to do whatever with keeping +their word. When he ran into a man who was as good +as his word, and which he did occasionally, he was so +surprised that he became nervous. Many of the white +agents and collectors informed him, that, with a few +exceptions, they drew the line on any credit business +with the men, because they simply could not trust them. +Of course this was not among the so-called "best" people; +but with them, he had a hard time securing an order, +since, to make appearance was their obvious effort, in a +large measure. When the cook advised him to see the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> +butler, he forthwith inquired whether he gambled or +drank; for, if so, he thanked her for her kindness, and +made no effort to get the order, for it was useless, in +four cases out of five.</p> + +<p>Hence it came to pass, that Sidney Wyeth learned +that his people were the victims of liquor and gaming, and +this was the result of ill training, ignorance, and lack of +civic observation. If John Barleycorn was at the bottom +of most of the crime—which grew, in most instances, out +of discussions and differences of opinion regarding trifling +matters—ignorance was at the bottom of the indulgence.</p> + +<p>On this day, when he had completed his work, he +stopped at the library. This was not open to colored +people, which he knew; but, since what he desired could +not be obtained elsewhere, he decided to go to the desk +and make known the fact, and leave it to the civil regard +of the librarian. He was ushered into a room to one +side, which was not always used, and they brought anything +to him that he wished. When he took his leave, +he was invited to call at any time, and he could expect +the same accommodations.</p> + +<p>Some time later he did, and while looking through the +matter which was the occasion of his visit, the librarian +approached him, and said:</p> + +<p>"You will perhaps be interested in hearing that it is +the desire of the board, to take some steps toward a +library for the colored people of the city."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" he replied. "I am sure I am interested. +Nothing, I assure you, is much more needed."</p> + +<p>"Yes," the other went on earnestly. "It has been +the desire of the board to do so for some time; but, +owing to the fact, I regret to say, that—well, those in +your race whom we have waited for, and looked to, to +take some initiative with regard to the matter, have not +appeared to care much—well, not any, as yet." He +paused a moment, while Wyeth waited.</p> + +<p>"I presume," said he presently, "that you are one of +the professors."</p> + +<p>"No, I am not. I am not connected with any school, +in fact, I am not connected with anything here, other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> +than a book, of which I am the author, and which is +being circulated by myself here in the city. But I am +deeply interested in anything pertaining to what you +mention."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see," said the other, and disappointment was +evident in his tone. "I had hoped, from the interest you +show in literature, that you are connected with one of +the schools. But I will state what we have planned on, +and what would be necessary on the part of your people, +in order to stimulate such a movement.</p> + +<p>"This city is, of course, unable to make such an investment; +but it, the board, is willing to cooperate with +the leaders of your people, the teachers and preachers, in +bringing this to the attention of northern philanthropists, +and, with a little effort concentrated on the issue, it is +reasonable to suppose that, in view of libraries given to +the different colored schools in the south, the securing of +one here is quite possible."</p> + +<p>"That is the way I have been compelled to see it, +through knowledge gained in observation," Wyeth +agreed.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it can be obtained, it should be obtained." He +paused again hesitantly, then went on, somewhat determinedly: +"This city has a dreadful record for crime; +and, while I regret to make the mention, yet, I think +you will agree with me—"</p> + +<p>"That the great amount of the crime is among the +black population," Wyeth assisted, unembarrassed.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. It is a dreadful affair, this daily murdering +of human beings, and this continual herding to the chain +gang. These people go there and get in so much trouble, +because their minds are untrained—and this is due to +their environment, which is bad. It is a distressing condition +which the state is facing. A library will, in time, +have a marked effect upon existing conditions. There is +no park either, in fact, there is nothing but the open +street, the schools and churches for the colored youth; +whereas, the white children have everything to help +them become the proper men and women. And yet, and +here is where it becomes awkward for the public to do<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> +anything. You are aware that the south is poor, and, +therefore, unable to give even their white population +what the north can in regard to uplift; but, as I remarked, +the leaders appear to show such little interest +in betterment.</p> + +<p>"Now, for instance, if the teachers and preachers +would unite themselves into a body, for the purpose of +securing a library for the colored people of Effingham, +and persist in this matter, eventually they would have a +building, and not less than fifty thousand volumes. But, +as it now stands, rarely do any of them call in the manner +you do. And, before anything can be done by the board, +it is expedient on the part of these people, to get some +public sentiment, in favor of the proposal. Now, what +is your opinion of it?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, I cannot be otherwise than heartily in +accordance with such a proposition. And, I regret to +agree with you, that the people we, or you, look to as +our leaders, show little interest in this matter. Publicity +is necessary. I could, for instance, write an article +calling attention to such a movement, and have it published +in the colored paper; but they would not read it +with other than a passing interest in such a sheet. I +have had it in view for some time past of doing something—or, +I should say, saying something. I shall not +yet, however, state just what or how I will say it; but +suffice that I am going to say something, and say it at a +time and in such words, that the Negro public, as well +as the whites, will, I hope, sit up and take notice."</p> + +<p>"I am glad to hear that. Drop in at any time, and if +we can help you in any way, we will be only too glad to +do so," said the librarian, enthusiastically, and extended +his hand.</p> + +<p>When Wyeth got to his room, he thought long and +deeply upon the subject. And when he retired that +evening, he had begun the formulation of a plan that +would wake up this sluggish resignation, which seemed +to possess the race to whom the white people looked to +for initiative.</p> + +<p>The following Sunday, when he received his paper,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +<i>The Herald</i>, an article spread over the front page, double +column, caught his attention, and he read it through, as +no doubt every one did, who was interested in civic welfare. +It was another by the park commissioner, and was +in regard to a park to be centrally located, and to be +used exclusively for the use of the colored population of +the city.</p> + +<p>In Effingham, there are perhaps a half dozen small +and large parks, and all for white use exclusively. During +the hot days of the long summer, black people must +roast in their stuffy little homes, perhaps a fourth of which +face alleys. Black children have no place to play, no +place to exercise their little bodies, or give free vent to +their desire for child play. Crime, therefore, is their +greatest environment.</p> + +<p>Stealing is so bad in this city, that the druggist remarked +to Wyeth one day, that if he should awaken at two A.M. +and see a Negro pushing a box car up the street, not to +become excited or even be surprised. Since he had been +in Effingham, a man who lived to the rear of his abode, +and who owned a horse and wagon, had, on three different +occasions, and in less than two months, found it in a +remote part of the city. It was tied to a tree or a fence, +or maybe not tied at all. It was nothing uncommon. +The horse was used to haul stuff that had previously +been spotted and later stolen. It is this that the colored +children see and become acquainted with in their alley +homes, and which makes criminals of so many long +before they are of age.</p> + +<p>The article by the park commissioner dealt with these +conditions, as well as with the great amount of murder +committed in the city. It was the desire, to locate a +park near the heart of the city, so that these little children +with the ebony faces, might find some relief from +their alley homes, and in that way, help a little toward +the discouragement of so much crime. The jail was +overrun with both women and men prisoners; the funds +for the purpose of building a larger jail was not forthcoming, +so the city could do the least by giving these +people some place of recreation.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span></p> + +<p>However, went on the commissioner's article, neither +the city nor the commissioner could be expected to make +any move toward giving this to the colored people, until +the colored people themselves, through their leaders, the +preachers and teachers, of which there was estimated to +be in the neighborhood of three hundred, would show, in +some manner, that they desired it. To purchase the +ground and remove the buildings thereon, prepare and +dress it down to a park, would, of course, require a considerable +outlay of capital. The commissioner, therefore, +would be glad to consult with this body of people with a +view to that end. If it was not convenient for all to +come, he added, kindly write him their views and desires +with regard to the matter. But the commissioners would +consider it more demonstrative, if the teachers and +preachers of the city, colored, would call upon him in +person; and, in conclusion, he set a day, and requested +that as many, if not all of them, would call at his office +on the afternoon of the following Wednesday.</p> + +<p>Wyeth spoke of the matter to those he knew; few +though, had concerned themselves as much as to read it +even; while others made idle remarks, and so the day +came.</p> + +<p>Yes, it came, and to the office went, to be exact, five +teachers and three preachers out of a possible total +number of three hundred. The commissioner was too +discouraged to keep these precious eight very long, so, +with a few words, announcement was made that a pasture, +five miles from town, could be leased for a small figure, +and that a car line went within a mile of it; so that it +was moved and seconded, and the colored people got a +park.</p> + +<p>The following day, the papers were considerate enough +to make small mention of it, and that was the end of the +matter.</p> + +<p>When Sidney Wyeth had learned the details, he decided +upon a plan which will be unfolded in a later chapter.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-TWO_2" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-TWO_2"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>This Man Is Losing His Mind</i>"</p> + + +<p>"Hello, stranger," said Miss Palmer one beautiful +morning, when he came strolling by. "I haven't seen +you for a long time," she said, smiling not overly pleasant. +In fact, Miss Palmer looked worn, and acted likewise. +She did not present a hopeful example, as Wyeth saw her +now. She was sweeping the sidewalk in front of her +place with a broom that was worn to the last threads, +and more. These had been cut, and only the small wire +held it to the handle.</p> + +<p>"Good Lord!" he exclaimed, upon looking at it. +"What do you call that?" and pointed at it with a +laugh. She looked sad and replied:</p> + +<p>"That's my broom. Isn't it a shame? But it's all +the broom I have. Won't you buy me one, and give it to +me as a present? You make plenty of money, and I +have five fifty in the house for you myself." She smiled up +into his face now wearily, and he was touched. He was, +moreover, sorry now for what he had said. But to make +amends, he replied cheerfully:</p> + +<p>"Sure, sis. Take any part of what is due me, and use +it for that purpose."</p> + +<p>"That is so sweet of you," she smiled, gratefully. "I +always believed you were sweet, regardless of the fact +that of late you have become so awful."</p> + +<p>"How's that?" he inquired, curiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I have been constrained to believe you are losing +your mind. You have succeeded in criticising about +everybody and everything, that pertains to the good +colored people of this city."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Palmer," he cried, looking hurt, "I have not +criticised everybody and everything. I have only shown<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> +that I think a lot of the so-called good people are four-flushers +and selfish creatures, with no real love for the +race, nor any regard for the civic improvement of these +black people. But I know lots of good, kind, sincere +colored people in this town, that I am proud of as members +of the race."</p> + +<p>"Come into the house," she invited, and presently +they were seated in the parlor. At once Miss Palmer +took up the discussion of society, and the buying of +homes, which had reached a degree of impracticability +among the colored people, notwithstanding the sound +idea.</p> + +<p>All over the country, during this pilgrimage, Wyeth had +witnessed this purchase idea with a mark of encouragement. +And, to say that they were succeeding, was a fact +that meant a great deal to their future welfare.</p> + +<p>Miss Palmer delighted always to discuss the buying +of a home, and marrying. Another teacher was visiting +her that day, and likewise shared her views. Wyeth +did too, but he always had questions to ask, that sometimes +made the discussion rather upset.</p> + +<p>Now he read the Negro paper, and had fearfully observed +that an unusual and alarming amount of foreclosures +was the order. In conversation with the numerous +real estate dealers, he learned, moreover, that many +of the attempts at purchasing, were foredoomed to +failure when made; that to own a home, in a great +many cases had become a fetish, and was, therefore, not +based upon a practical consideration in the beginning.</p> + +<p>A very successful dealer, colored, had told him confidentially, +that he sold many homes, and would have +bet, if it had been expedient, that they would not be +able to keep the payments up for a year.</p> + +<p>"How does so much of this come about?" he had +inquired.</p> + +<p>"Notoriety. Too many people do not study, although +they may have a liberal school training among our +people. It's the great ambition of too many, to get into +a home with the first object of being seen therein, to +show to their friends and put on airs. They buy with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> +no idea whatever as to value, liability or anything. +They have simply stinted themselves until they have +managed to save a few dollars, and desire to get into the +biggest home possible, to be where they can be seen by +their friends."</p> + +<p>"The rate of interest appears to be very high, I have +observed," said he, by way of comment. The other +looked at him meaningly, and then said:</p> + +<p>"Interest eats these people alive here; just sucks their +life's blood—but it is not that alone. Not one in five +knows how to arrange a loan. They permit themselves +to be governed by some dealer, who, in almost every +instant, is the worst grafter possible. They will make a +loan with a life of three years, at eight per cent interest, +and five per cent commission. Now you know that no +loan running three years, on property that poor people +are trying to buy on the installment plan, is practical. +Yet that is the kind of loan that most of these cheap +sharks offer to the masses of our people, who have no +judgment. A Negro is unable, as a rule, to realize that +three years is a very short time. He is compelled to +learn by bitter experience. The worst feature of this is, +that at the end of it, he is so discouraged, that often he +does not benefit by this experience, because the failure +has gotten his heart, and he is done for.</p> + +<p>"At the end of three years, which seems like three days +when they are trying to buy a home, the shark is around +for a renewal of the mortgage, and must, therefore, +collect another cash commission of five per cent. Think +of it! In two-thirds of such instances, it takes every +dime they have paid in those three years. Sometimes +more. Now how can people pay for a home under such +conditions! But there is another side of it. And it all +comes from the inability of our people to see further +than their noses.</p> + +<p>"Almost all these purchases are made beyond the +extension of the sewerage, often the water works, positively +no street improvements, and side walks are rare; +but, in three years, in order to boom the property, the +promoter is active in bringing some of these improve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span>ments +within reach of this property. That adds about +one-half to two-thirds more to the cost of the property +he is trying to buy. Moreover, when these people know +anything, they will not buy a house built by these promoters, +for it is nothing but the cheapest shell they can +get to stand, but attractive from the outside. In two +years, the occupant is fortunate if he doesn't have to +build another.</p> + +<p>"Then comes the great day. These people cannot pay +that commission over again, and the loan company +doesn't care to increase the loan, maybe, by including +the commission in a new one. If they are unable to +make arrangements with a bank, and that means they +are going to deed them the property, seven cases in ten, +foreclosure proceedings are instituted. The property is +finally deeded by the sheriff to the mortgagee. Now +here is another phase: This piece of property can then +be sold quicker than before, for this reason: It is very +easy to frame up a tale, to the effect that a party who +was purchasing the place was a shiftless drunkard, or +anything, and imagination can supply the rest; but, +inasmuch as they had taken the property back, they are +now offering it at a greatly reduced price and better +terms. There are so many subtle ways of drawing people +in, that it would take a volume to relate them all; but +they come to the same in the end. Installment property +at two thousand dollars can be bought for about twelve +to not exceed fifteen hundred. Instead of commission +and everything else, buying by the installment plan in +this, and every overboomed southern town, costs from +twice to three times what the property would actually +cost, if the purchaser could pay half of the purchase +price cash, for, in that way he could secure terms, and +could pay interest rate on the remainder. In time he +would get the same paid, and have his little home."</p> + +<p>"And that, you feel, is the reason for all this foreclosure?" +said Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"That is the <i>cause</i> of it. Why, advertising property +for foreclosure has become a feature of competition, +between the three Negro papers in this town. They get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> +more money out of that end, than they do from the advertisements +through straight business, for the purpose +of selling it originally."</p> + +<p>"It would seem that the people would get on to such +methods by and by," Wyeth commented.</p> + +<p>"Some, of course, do, and avoid it; but you cannot +imagine how many do not. It all comes about through +a lack of general intelligence. Too many of our people +do not read anything; are, therefore, without any vision +or judgment of their own. They don't know. And, of +course, are made the goats of those who do."</p> + +<p>"So that explains why a portion of this town to the +west, and which is occupied almost exclusively by our +people, has such dreadful streets and no sidewalks whatever."</p> + +<p>"That's it. They will, perhaps, have none for the next +twenty-five years. Too much property is being bought, +and so little is being paid for, that it is a continual change +about."</p> + +<p>"I find a great many of the people—intelligent people—who +do not care to see this side of it," Wyeth remarked.</p> + +<p>"Half of the school teachers, for instance, seem to wish +not to see it. And they get stung! But they are so +anxious to be seen, and to be referred to in a position +beyond their means, no wonder."</p> + +<p>So Sidney Wyeth had to take this man's point of view +for more than one reason. Like Attalia—but worse, +these people considered literature, as a whole, dead +stock. More than sixty thousand in number, the demand +among them for books and magazines, was insufficient to +justify any one's running a place for such a purpose. It +was not large enough to justify either of the Negro drug +stores carrying periodicals in stock, even those that +were carried by all white drug stores, excepting those in +districts occupied and patronized by the colored people. +And with all this, there was not the least claim for that +kind of knowledge. More than a hundred churches never +encouraged the people to read anything but the Bible: +apparently, the obtaining of a library had not worried +any but Sidney Wyeth; it has been seen how they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> +worried over the securing of a park. Is it a wonder, +with all this under his observation, that Sidney Wyeth, +who came from a land where people read and thought, +and had some perspective, eventually came to be regarded +as a chronic critic? He had witnessed more murders than +he had in all the days of his life.</p> + +<p>Having digressed to such a length, we will return now +to Miss Annie Palmer, who was possessed with the ambition +to be established in a home of her own, and to be +seen by those who knew her.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Just think of it, suga'," she said to the other teacher. +"You can get the nicest kind of a home in the west end +for a moderate sum, and only fifty or a hundred dollars +down on the best of them. The rest is paid just like you +pay rent, and no more." It was this, Wyeth recalled, +that got them. "It cost no more than to pay rent after +the first payment."</p> + +<p>"Um-um," from the other.</p> + +<p>"And the sewers, and sidewalks, and streets and lights +are all there," said Wyeth kindly.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there you go for an argument," Miss Palmer +retorted, angrily. Wyeth grinned.</p> + +<p>"Well, these things have all been completed to include +this property...."</p> + +<p>Miss Palmer said nothing to him in reply.</p> + +<p>"And you can get it after the first payment like paying +rent," commented the other teacher.</p> + +<p>"Um-m," let out Miss Palmer, sweetly.</p> + +<p>"What sweet real estate dealer offers such bargains +and <i>easy</i> things?" said Wyeth, humorously. The druggist, +who knew everybody's business, had told him that +Miss Palmer, at one time, was the object of every real +estate shark in Effingham. And then some one lodged +her in the suburbs, and since, she had been left alone. +So he wondered whether it was because Miss Palmer, as +a lady high in colored society, could not conveniently get +such an amount together.</p> + +<p>"This man is losing his mind," she said, to the other +teacher. The other now regarded Wyeth dubiously. +He grinned and then said:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p> + +<p>"If you start buying, or biting on one of these <i>easy</i> +homes in the west end that you refer to, you are going +to lose your head."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that so," Miss Palmer essayed, with much +spirit. "Do you suppose, that with me teaching in the +schools of this city for thirteen years—" and she had +begun at twenty-two, so she told him once—"I do not +know something! And if you infer that I haven't a +hundred dollars, then you haven't become acquainted +with Annie Palmer! Don't you worry about her, for she +always has a roll convenient. And you never see any +collectors coming here, and leaving without what they +came for." She was very dignified now, as she went to +the door to answer a knock.</p> + +<p>The room in which they sat opened into a small hallway, +which was entered from the street by a glass door. +It was at this open door, that a man stood, who, however, +could not be seen from where Miss Palmer's company sat. +He could be heard, though. And they, the company, +couldn't help hearing. They were not eavesdropping. It +was then that Wyeth learned Miss Palmer was vain. +He could not help recalling, that if "no collectors went +away without what they came for," it was because they +expected nothing when they came. So, when Miss +Palmer had completed her trite sentence and sallied forth +to answer the knock, they could not help hearing her +say very quickly, and with some embarrassment:</p> + +<p>"Oh, you are too early. Come back tomorrow. I +have my books to deliver this afternoon, and will be +ready for you tomorrow, so—"</p> + +<p>That was as far as she got. And her company could +not be censured for overhearing the rest of it, that is, +what the other made in reply. The chances are the +other was not aware of their presence, a few feet away, +but that is a matter for conjecture. Miss Palmer could +be heard attempting to finish with him, without his words +that came in a flow. She was nervous, but he would +have his say, and so he said, cutting off her discourse:</p> + +<p>"I'm tired of this stalling, all this stalling you have +been handing us for months. This has got to come to +an end."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll bring it to the office, I—"</p> + +<p>"You'll do nothing of the kind, and you know you +won't!"</p> + +<p>"I'll pay you tomorrow, sure, sure, sure!" Why +didn't the man be a gentleman and go, go, go! Plainly +Miss Palmer was dreadfully nervous, more, as she could +be heard by those who were listening. She was plainly +in agony. The collector was on the warpath, and went +on relentlessly:</p> + +<p>"If you haven't made some disposition of it by Monday +a week, get that stuff ready for the wagon," and a moment +later his steps died away in the distance.</p> + +<p>For one moment, Wyeth saw the face of her friend, +but he couldn't believe it! And still, when Miss Palmer +returned and resumed her discussion with regard to buying +homes, he would have sworn that the other had to +smother very quickly a gleeful expression.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-THREE_2" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-THREE_2"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>I'll Brand You as a Faker</i>"</p> + + +<p>"Eh, there! Get that car on switch A! Now, let her +come back to the left. All forward no-ow! Engineer, +what's the matter with you today? Are you drunk? +Pull that train forward and back it up as I tell you, or I +shall report you to the superintendent! You're devilishly +contrary today."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sam," called some one.</p> + +<p>"Aw, don't bother me today. I'm in a hurry. I am +called by the board of directors to talk over the purchase +of the A.G.S. I am chairman of the committee, and +have no time to talk with you."</p> + +<p>"Hello, Sam," greeted Wyeth, as this worthy came +hurriedly by. Sam halted a moment and gazed at him, +then walked forward and extended his hand, crying:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Morgan. I'm glad to see you. I am called by +the directors of the Southern Railway, with regard to +purchasing that line and merging it with the L. & N."</p> + +<p>"I see. Who owns the L. & N. now," he inquired, +casually.</p> + +<p>"Me."</p> + +<p>"And the A.G.S.?"</p> + +<p>"I only have a half interest in that now."</p> + +<p>"I understand that you refused to buy out the controlling +interest in the Tennessee Coal and Iron Company."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I refused. I don't like the line-up in the directorship. +And, besides, I cannot see my way clear to act as +chairman of the board of control, therefore, I considered +it unwise to invest any millions in the thing."</p> + +<p>"Well, I won't detain you, since I know you are so +busy. Good day."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good day, Mr. Morgan. Try to call at my office in +the Empire building before you leave town.</p> + +<p>"Engineer, if you don't switch better, call at the office +this evening and get your time. I will fire you," and +Sam hurried to his office, just as John Moore came from +another direction, sleepy-eyed, and looking like the "last +rose of summer". The Mis' was waiting for him, and +as soon as he was inside, she inquired with concealed +suspicion:</p> + +<p>"Well, where were you last night?"</p> + +<p>"In jail."</p> + +<p>"You seem fond of that place of late."</p> + +<p>He shrugged his shoulders sleepily.</p> + +<p>"Where did they get you this time?"</p> + +<p>"Rosie's."</p> + +<p>"You've been quite a frequenter about there of +late...."</p> + +<p>"That's mah business. Don't try t' hand me no +argerment this morning. Fix me something to eat. I'm +hongry."</p> + +<p>"Didn't you have breakfast up there; but then it +seems you left before breakfast? How came you back +so early? I didn't look for you so soon."</p> + +<p>"How did you know that I had been got? You are +too smart nowaday's anyhow."</p> + +<p>"Who went your bond?"</p> + +<p>He regarded her out of impatient eyes now. He +glared at her, but said: "I was eight dollars winner, and +had two dollars besides."</p> + +<p>"Um-m. So you give that to a professional bondsman."</p> + +<p>"Hello," came a call from the outside.</p> + +<p>"Hello," called back the Mis'. "Come in."</p> + +<p>"Is John Moore here?" said a bad looking Negro, with +a head like a monkey and no chin at all. Moore looked +uneasy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, here you are," said the other, as he spied Moore. +His tone was full of contempt, and a touch of anger was +mingled. "Where is my part for the stuff you disposed +of?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ssh! Not so loud."</p> + +<p>"Not so the devil! You can't shoo me away any +longer. You ain't paid me for the last bunch a chicken +I brung heah; and now you want t' shoo me away on +this last stuff we done stole togedder."</p> + +<p>"Will you hush. We'll talk this matter over outside."</p> + +<p>"We's go'n talk it over heah, 'n' you go'n hand me +ove fo' dollah's, ah I'm go'in' t' take it outta yo' stinkin' +hide!" He looked at Moore now with an evil eye, and +that worthy backed up and picked up a pair of scissors, +that he had brought in late one night from one of the +mysterious directions.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you go'n push them things through me, eh! +All right, ole nigga. This is wha you 'n' me mixes it. +I gi'n fix you ah you gi'n fix me," and with that he +started in the other's direction.</p> + +<p>"Now, Sha'p Head. Ain' I done always treated you +right?" Moore whimpered.</p> + +<p>"Naw, naw! 'n that's what I'm gi'n land on you +cause!"</p> + +<p>"Now just name a time when I ain'," Moore temporized, +nervously.</p> + +<p>"Naw, I say. Git out that winda 'f you don't wanta +be killed. Git out wi' out awgument, cause I g'in to +make you run some. Don't you b'lieve I'm go'n run yu?"</p> + +<p>"'C'ose I b'lieve you. I b'lieve you go'n come in heah +'n' run me outta ma house, outta ma house," cried +Moore, piteously.</p> + +<p>"Come pickin' up a pair a-scissors two feet long to +push in me," roared the other. "I got a notion t' run +yu ontell yo' ankles gits hot. I'll run yu six blocks, you +lop eared bull dog!"</p> + +<p>"You outta be 'shamed t' treat me that way, Sha'p +head, 'n' you know you outta!" went on Moore, soothingly.</p> + +<p>"Come outside, John Moore, 'n' leave yo' coat inside. +I'm go'n' run y' six blocks, so help me Gawd!"</p> + +<p>"All right, Sha'p Head. 'F you jes' gotta run me +outta ma house, then go on outside. I'm a-comin."</p> + +<p>The other came through the room where Wyeth and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> +Legs were trying to play a game of checkers. He was +puffing so hard, that he appeared to be afraid of himself. +"That low down skunk! I'm go'n run that nigga ontell +'is ankle's done be so hot that the streets go'n melt +behind him! Doggone 'im!"</p> + +<p>"Are you outside, Sha'p Head?" called Moore, nervously.</p> + +<p>"I'm out heah, you liver eater. Come out wi' yo +ankle's greased, 'cause you go'n run six blocks faster yu +ebber did in yo' life; 'n' when you gits to d' end of it, +I' gi'n kill yu!"</p> + +<p>"Bang!" went the door, and the key turned. To +describe the indignation of Moore for the next few +minutes; what he would do; what he ought to have +done, would be beyond the possibilities of our pen. He +was positively so bad that he had much effort to keep +from doing injury to himself. Legs winked at Wyeth, +and then, rising, unlocked the door and slipped out +quietly. A moment later, a terrible banging was instituted +upon the door. Wyeth held it closed, with a +great feigned effort.</p> + +<p>"Let me at him! Let me at him!" cried Legs from +the outside, but John Moore didn't wait to hear any +more. A crash and a rattle as of falling glass scattered +about, showed that an exit was unconventionally made +in the rear. Wyeth and Legs came around in time to see +him going over the back fence. The next time they saw +him, he was leading the other by about two rods, as +they went up the street.</p> + +<p>"Jumped right into his jaws," laughed Glenview, as +they watched the chase from the porch.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later, some one tore into the house, and +turned the key of the door so quickly, that it seemed like +an automatic spring lock.</p> + +<p>It was John Moore.</p> + +<p>"Let's go down to the drug store," suggested Wyeth. +Legs didn't hang out in that direction, so Glenview was +the recipient of the suggestion. He couldn't, so, presently, +Wyeth went alone.</p> + +<p>"They are going to fall down in both those towns, on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> +the securing of a Y.M.C.A. for Negroes, and I knew +they would when they started," the druggist was saying, +when Wyeth entered.</p> + +<p>"Negroes can secure nothing but churches down south," +commented another.</p> + +<p>"They have only a few weeks left, before the time +limit on the appropriations from the Jew expires. He +offered twenty-five thousand to any association where the +people secured an additional seventy-five thousand. +Now six months after the campaign for the association in +Grantville," so said a mail clerk who ran to that city, +"less than five thousand in cash, out of a total of more +than thirty-three thousand dollars subscribed, has been +collected to date. How can this—what is the name of +the secretary of the proposed association—yes, I +have it, Jacobs—Rev. Wilson Jacobs, figure they will be +able to secure one in that town?"</p> + +<p>"It's all stuff. Nigga's down here would do nothing +with an association no way," said the druggist.</p> + +<p>"I stopped at the Y.M.C.A. when I was in Chicago +this summer," said the bookkeeper in the Dime Savings +Bank. "It appears to be conducted with great success, +and is surely a fine, clean, up-to-date place to stop, +regardless of the fact that almost everything is open to +Negroes in that city."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but the Negroes in Chicago are civilized," said +another. "These Negroes down here would have to have +a half dozen police standing around to keep order, if they +had one."</p> + +<p>"But don't you feel such a thing in this town would act +as a great moral benefit?" suggested Wyeth, at this +juncture.</p> + +<p>"We now hear from Tempest," smiled the druggist. +He had not been able, as yet, to reconcile himself to the +bet he lost some months before, and had since a grudge +against Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"I see by today's paper, that Wilson Jacobs will +address the people of the city in regard to the Christian +forward movement, and will be assisted by several white +men of high standing in the city."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, speeches will be all right; but I'd bet a dollar +to a dime that they will never secure a Y.M.C.A. in +the town he represents. As for Effingham, no chance."</p> + +<p>"You seem to be successful in getting the biggest kind +of churches here," said Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"Yes," returned the druggist, "and they will be paying +for them, as they have been for the last—since I ever +knew anything."</p> + +<p>"But they have the churches, nevertheless."</p> + +<p>"Oh, so far as that goes, yes."</p> + +<p>"They must have had to pay as much as forty per cent +of the cost, to secure a loan for the remainder?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Tempest; but what has that to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Well, if the big church on the corner up the street +could be secured at a cost of seventy-five thousand +dollars, half or more of which I understand has been +paid, then, a like amount should be available in a town +of this size, and which has an equal number of colored +people, shouldn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Tempest is out for argument," said the druggist.</p> + +<p>"No argument, when almost every large city in the +north—and some not as large as this town—have a +Y.M.C.A. for its black population. And more than +half that have such, have not nearly the colored population +that this town has, and positively have not nearly +the need."</p> + +<p>"Tempest has been worrying about a library, a park, +and everything else for this town, in the months he has +been here," the druggist said, looking almost amused. +Wyeth took exception.</p> + +<p>"I <i>am</i> interested in this town, and in another, where I +see and read of more crime and murder, than I ever +dreamed was possible."</p> + +<p>"Then, Tempest," said the druggist, naively, "you +ought to get one. Or, at least, you ought to awaken, by +some initiative on your part, some enthusiasm to that +end. You see all we need, you do, a globe trotter, and +you have certainly criticised to that end, and now," his +voice took on a cold, hard tone, "I say: Do something +to prove this criticism worth the while, or I'll brand <i>you</i> +as a faker—a frost, with all your premeditated ideas!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span></p> + +<p>Every one about was silent, while their eyes turned +and regarded Sidney Wyeth. About the corners of their +mouths a smile that spelled of a sneer, played subtly. +If Sidney Wyeth didn't see it, he at least felt it. And in +that moment, he realized that he would not dare show +his face about this place, lest he be scorned henceforth, +if he didn't take the stand the druggist had taken.</p> + +<p>"Very well, Dr. Randall," he said, rising. "<i>I shall do +so.</i>" He regarded them all for a moment, with a firm +sweep of his eyes, and, next, he turned and left the store.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWENTY-FOUR_2" id="CHAPTER_TWENTY-FOUR_2"></a>CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>The Arraignment</i></p> + + +<p>"I guess that will do," whispered Wyeth to himself, +arising from his typewriter at one-thirty the following +morning. Carefully he placed the typewritten pages in +the drawer, and retired.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"A colored man to see you, Mr. Byron," said the clerk, +to the managing editor of the Effingham <i>Age-Herald</i>.</p> + +<p>"Show him in," said the other shortly, and kept about +his work. A moment later, Sidney Wyeth stood before +the editor.</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"I should like twenty minutes talk with you, Mr. +Byron," said the other calmly.</p> + +<p>The editor laid down his pen, and raising his eyes, he +began at the feet, which were somewhat large, ran the gaze +up a pair of long legs, and finally saw a chin, a nose and +the eyes, and there they stopped. He had been in the +act of freezing, what he was confident was a crank, a +fool, or a knave. To walk calmly into the office of the +managing editor, and ask for twenty minutes of his time! +It was incredulous. And yet, when he saw the eyes of +the other, something therein told him strangely, that this +man was no fool, nor a knave—nor any of the things he +had been feeling. He was—well, he was a colored man, +which made it stranger still, for colored men had not +been in the habit of coming to his office at all, much less +asking for such an amount of time on his busy day. He +shifted his position, and finally, after swallowing guiltily, +the words he started to say, he added:</p> + +<p>"Be seated."</p> + +<p>"I realize that you are busy, very busy, Mr. Byron," +Wyeth began rapidly, not waiting for the other to say<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> +anything more. "But my business is a matter of grave +importance, of the very gravest importance. And that +is why I have called, and asked for the amount of time +which I am aware is not customary for you to grant."</p> + +<p>The other said nothing. He knew of nothing to say; +but, somehow, he simply sat viewing Sidney Wyeth out +of curious eyes—and waiting. The other unfolded one +of several papers; they were, the editor now saw, previous +issues of his paper. He wondered. He had been +very careful to kill stories that smelled of strife between +the races.... He did not conduct his paper with an +appeal to race prejudice. Mr. Byron was proud of the +fact, too. Moreover, while he had doubts as to the +hurried evolution of the Negro race to a place in the +least equal to the one of which he was a member, he +had always tried, when he could conveniently do so, to +say a word of kind encouragement with regard to the +colored people. Only that week, he had run a strong +account on the front page, with regard to the governor's +visit to Tuscola, at the invitation of its principal, who +had extended it. The invitation came for the purpose +of allowing the state government to see, by a personal +inspection, whether the colored schools were entitled to +a portion of certain funds, the Federal government had +appropriated for the purpose of farm demonstration work. +Following his return to the city, the governor had, without +reservation, announced that the appropriation would +be so divided, as to allow Tuscola Institute and another +Negro school, a liberal portion of said funds.</p> + +<p>Steven Byron justly took some of the credit for this, +and now is it a wonder that he held his breath, while this +young Negro, whom he had never seen before, unfolded +the paper and finally began.</p> + +<p>Coming to the side of his desk, Wyeth reseated himself, +and, pointing to an article, said: "You recall this +incident?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the editor, still wondering.</p> + +<p>"And this one also," said the other, with another paper +unfolded and spread before him.</p> + +<p>"Of course."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span></p> + +<p>And for the next few seconds he showed him others. +The other was still wondering, when Wyeth said:</p> + +<p>"Do you recall following this particular Wednesday, +when you published this article in regard to the +park for colored people, the number of teachers and +preachers who presented themselves as the commissioner +had suggested and requested?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes. There were—"</p> + +<p>"Eight, to be exact. Three preachers and five teachers."</p> + +<p>"Yes." The other was still curious.</p> + +<p>"Have you any idea what number of preachers and +teachers you have among the colored people of this +city?"</p> + +<p>"Why, a great many, I am sure."</p> + +<p>"Three hundred or more, according to the directory. +I don't think they got all that teach elsewhere, and make +their homes here during vacation; and I know they +have not all the preachers, but that is neither here nor +there.</p> + +<p>"In regard to this article about securing a library for +the colored people. How many visits, can you recall, +were paid you by any of the teachers and preachers +following the publication of it? And can you recall how +many letters you received, or anything else connected +with the instant?"</p> + +<p>"I can quite well, I regret to say," replied the editor; +"for the simple reason I received no letters nor any +visits."</p> + +<p>"You requested, in your paper of recent issue, and +which is before you, that the leading colored people—and +of course this includes the teachers—should call at your +office to make arrangement for the coming lecture in +regard to the need of Y.M.C.A.'s for the colored people +of the south. I suppose you have been favored with +many visits?"</p> + +<p>The other shook his head sadly, as he replied: "No +one has called among your people."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Has it ever occurred to you, Mr. Byron, +that an unusual amount of crime appears to be the +order in this city?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who couldn't realize it, that lived here or knew of +the place through the columns of the papers?"</p> + +<p>"And, unfortunately, eighty per cent of the murders +are committed by a certain two-fifths of our population. +That two-fifths represents my race."</p> + +<p>The editor nodded.</p> + +<p>"Then, in view of what I have just called to your +attention, does it occur to you that the leaders—or the +should-be-leaders of my people of this city, are indicating, +by their actions, that they care a hang what becomes of +the race?"</p> + +<p>The elements were beginning to clear now. The +editor said: "It certainly doesn't appear so."</p> + +<p>"And yet how many of these people, in conversation, +are ever ready, when there is a mob demonstration, to +exploit—which in itself is much in order—the 'best' +people. And what consideration should be shown them, +regardless of the ignorance and crime of the masses? +Does it not occur to the casual observer, that a great +deal of negligence is the order when it comes to moral +uplift, on the part of the leading Negroes themselves?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot help but agree with you."</p> + +<p>"Then, Mr. Byron, I have prepared an article arraigning +this element of my race, that I have brought with +me, and ask you to examine it, with a view to publication. +I beg you to read the same carefully, and if you feel you +would like to run it, I shall appreciate it. And if you do +not, I will call tomorrow and get the same." Forthwith, +he handed the editor the typewritten pages he had +prepared the night before, and, with a bow, left the +office.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"The colored man that was here yesterday, Mr. Byron, +has called again, and waits outside."</p> + +<p>"Show him in, show him in at once," cried the editor, +turning about, and preparing himself for a conversation.</p> + +<p>"Well, sir," said Wyeth, after greetings had been +exchanged, "you, of course, realize what I am here for."</p> + +<p>"And I am certainly glad you called," returned the +editor, with a serious face. "I have read the article,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> +and reread parts of it." He paused, and was thoughtful +before he went on, "and must say that it is certainly +strong. Whew! The colored people are liable to lynch +you for such an arraignment, if I know them a little."</p> + +<p>"I had considered all that before I submitted it," +said the other, resignedly.</p> + +<p>"If a white man wrote such an article and brought it +to the office, I would not, under any consideration, +publish it. But, since it has been written by a colored +man, well, that makes a difference." He was silent +again.</p> + +<p>"Do you know," he said, regarding Wyeth keenly, +"I thought over what you wrote all last night. I have +thought of it in that way before, but it would never have +done to give utterance to it, me, a white man. But, +take for instance" (he drew out the manuscript, and +turned to a certain page): "You say here, that multitudes +of these so-called leaders have accepted the work +and the teaching of the wizard of Tuscola, merely because +the white people have; and that, in accepting him and +his views for the welfare of the race, it has been merely +to be on the popular side, because the wizard is so much +so; but that they have no sincerity whatever in the +words they say about him." He laid the sheets down, +and, raising his finger, said: "How true that is! Why +I know personally, scores that would kick him for the +statements he has made, if they could do so. But, as +you say further, they seek to get into the band wagon, +at any cost. Now you refer, at some length, to the +proposal to secure a park.</p> + +<p>"It is a positive fact, that the good white people of +the south, are made the object of bitterness by the +northern people, on account of something for which they +cannot always be blamed. Now, who would believe at +the north, that the white people were willing and ready +to give the colored people a park, a place for an outing +for the children; and the colored people didn't want +it?" Wyeth shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Nobody!" declared the editor. "Nobody in the +world, and yet here is an example in this very town,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> +which has more murder and crime among its black population +than any city in the world, regardless of the size! +And your race; that body of people, the teachers and +preachers, to whom we have naturally looked and asked +for cooperation in securing a park, have simply ignored +our invitation!</p> + +<p>"Now, in regard to the library. Here is the article, +and which I, with care, prepared myself. What good +has it done? I have asked their cooperation, not their +money; but I have been ignored, the same as the +commissioner was in regard to the park. And before +and since then, crime continues.</p> + +<p>"We know the law-abiding colored people cannot be +altogether responsible, for the crime of the polluted and +the criminal; but, Lord! One would not suppose that +they would so utterly disregard an effort on our part for +their civic welfare.</p> + +<p>"In the end, you call attention to the churches and +the condition of the pastors. It is certainly time someone +is calling to time ignorance in the ministry. Frankly, +I have long been of the opinion you advance in the +article, that an educational requirement should become +a law with regard to preachers, as well as to men in +other professions. Think of it! A profession, calling for +the highest general intelligence, having the lowest rate +of intelligence!</p> + +<p>"And, again, this church building bee has submerged +the Baptist church, among the colored people. How +can any of them be of any practical service, when there +is one for every one who can say 'Jesus!'</p> + +<p>"You draw attention to the inability of the southern +cities to secure Y.M.C.A's, where the great masses +of black people, of course, live. Not a one is in operation, +as they are conducted by the whites, or by the colored +people of the north. It is easy to excuse the matter by +pleading poverty. But, while that is a plausible excuse, +it seems quite feasible to build great big churches for a +certain few. They have two churches in this town that +would cost more than a Y.M.C.A. building, complete. +And yet, in Grantville, and the other town, and Attalia,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> +they are required to raise only about one-third of the +amount necessary.</p> + +<p>"What, then, is the cause of this failure? You have +answered it in the pages of this manuscript.</p> + +<p>"I am going to publish it. And in doing so, I am forewarned +that it is going to arouse a world of indignation +among your people, or I miss my guess. But it needs to +be done. Something should come before them, to awaken +this sluggishness with regard to uplift among their own. +So you may look for it—the entire article, on the front +page of next Sunday's issue. Good day!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"That was sure a dirty deal Dr. Randall and Dr. Bard +handed Tempest, wasn't it?" remarked L. Jones, editor +and owner of the Effingham <i>Reporter</i>, colored, to his +assistant.</p> + +<p>"I don't fully understand. What was it? I hear that +Wyeth bet, or rather, made a bet with Dr. Bard about +something," said the other, attentively.</p> + +<p>"Made a bet with Bard and beat him a mile and +Bard, through his friendship with Randall, who has had it +in for Wyeth since he came here, over a bet that Wyeth +won from him, hedged on it the dirtiest you can imagine."</p> + +<p>"Tell me in detail about it," requested the other. At +that moment, a private detective entered the office, and, +upon overhearing the conversation, said:</p> + +<p>"I can tell you all about it, because I was there when +the bet was made.</p> + +<p>"It was like this, or came about in this way: Down +at the drug store, Wyeth has had the nerve—I guess +that is how you can place it, since the bunch, including +Bard and Randall—especially Randall, don't appear to +appreciate that any one knows anything but themselves. +At least, they have been this way in regard to that fellow +Wyeth. So an argument came about that Wyeth got +into. He quoted an editorial in regard to the prosperity +of California, and mentioned that California had more +automobiles, in proportion to population, than any state +in the union. Randall had no reason to take exception +to this, further than he was so anxious to put this Wyeth<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> +in the wrong. He started an argument, but, of course, +he had his dose last summer and knew—if he would have +admitted it—that Wyeth was not arguing on something +he didn't know. But Bard, who accepts Randall as the +man who knows everything, and who has argued so +much that he would try to down anybody for the sake +of it, was regardless as to the merit. Bard took exception. +Those fellows cannot appreciate anybody's knowing +anything, unless he is a doctor. So, in the course +of the argument, Bard offered to bet Wyeth five dollars, +that the state of Iowa had more automobiles than California, +in proportion to its population. Wyeth called +him, and they put up the money.</p> + +<p>"I heard Bard explaining to one of their friends, that +Iowa had so many automobiles; but was away down +when it came to population. Wyeth overheard him, and +agreed that Iowa <i>did</i> have lots of machines, but that he +was wrong in regard to its being away down in population. +That, in fact, Iowa had almost as many people as +California. The crowd ridiculed such an idea, and cited +the big cities of California, as an evidence of the fact. +'There is no call for argument when the same is down +in black and white. Look it up in the census,' Wyeth +declared. Bard colored, while Randall fished around in +his belongings, and found a book containing the last +government census report. Now, what do you think of +a bunch that are always arguing, and not one of them +knew the population of either of those great states. +Not a one, and most of them graduated from college. +Which showed that they have not studied what is around +them, while Wyeth had.</p> + +<p>"The report they found, had Iowa's population for +fifteen years before. 'Wrong,' said Wyeth calmly. +'Well, here it is in black and white,' they all cried at +once. 'But it's wrong, I say,' declared Wyeth. 'You +can't convince Tempest on anything,' declared Randall +disgustedly. 'You cannot convince me that Iowa has +not increased in population in fifteen years. The census +you are poring over there, is fifteen years old.' They +were taken aback. They looked at the top of the page<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> +and saw they were all wrong again. Not a word did they +say. No, they wouldn't admit in words to him, that they +were wrong when it was before them. Wyeth called the +population, and when they looked just to the side, there +it was. It was the same with California. And still, not +one of that bunch said: 'By jove! He's right.' No, +but they all knew then that he had won that bet. And +Dr. Bard was sick. Just sick, while Randall was sore +with himself.</p> + +<p>"Now here is how they hedged and kept from paying +it: Wyeth wrote to two of the biggest motor magazines, +and to the department of commerce. The department of +commerce wrote back that the information he required, +could be gotten by consulting the magazine he had +written to, and stated what issues gave it. Wyeth +brought the issues and the letters. They then claimed +that they would accept the information from the secretaries +of the states only. He wrote to these people, and, +strange to say, they did not answer. And that was how +they hedged. There was only one of the bunch that +frequents the place regularly, who was man enough to +tell them how cheap it was, and that was Dr. Landrum. +He purchased Wyeth's book and read it, and told Wyeth +that he had done finely for a beginner; Randall has had +more criticism to offer upon it than any one else, but +would not, of course, honor Wyeth by buying one."</p> + +<p>"I guess he more than paid for one, from what I have +heard," laughed Jones, and related the incident of the +bet, which had become known about town.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the detective, "they are giving him the +laugh down there now, about how Randall called him +on his criticisms."</p> + +<p>"I heard about that, too," said Jones. "But you take +it from me. That fellow is going to make a fool of those +fellows yet. The man has something up his sleeve +behind all this criticism he is accused of, and I am looking +for him to do something. I don't know what it will be; +but I feel in my bones, that it will be something that +we will all know about."</p> + +<p>"I agree with you," said the detective. "That fellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> +has no college education like Randall and Bard, and +others, that feel they are the only fish in the pond; +but he is a walking encyclopedia when it comes to every +day facts about our country and the people, and some +day we are going to hear from him otherwise than through +the pages of his book. He didn't know all about writing +when he wrote that; but it's some book at any rate," +and with that, he rose and went his way.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Sunday was a beautiful day. The air was calm and +soft. A crowd was on hand early at Randall's pharmacy, +as was the usual custom on Sunday.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Randall cheerfully, "today is fine. +Wonder where Tempest is." And he looked about at the +others, amusedly. A tittering went the rounds.</p> + +<p>"He appears to be somewhat scarce about these premises, +since you called him some days ago," said Bard, +whereupon there was some more tittering.</p> + +<p>"Well, guess I'll look over the paper, since our wise +friend isn't around to teach us something," and, smothering +his glee, he uncovered the <i>Age-Herald</i>. Laying the +funny pages aside, he allowed his gaze to fall upon the +front page of the general news section.</p> + +<p>"What in Hell!" he exclaimed, in the next breath.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Ran?" cried the crowd.</p> + +<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Negro says race faces dreadful conditions, +due to lack of interest by their +leaders. Says selfishness is so much the +order that there is no interest whatever +toward uplift. Professional Negro the +worst.</span>"</p></blockquote> + +<p>"Have you read this?" cried Professor Dawes, bursting +in a few minutes later. "What do you think of it?" +He was very much excited. So were many others.</p> + +<p>"That Negro's crazy!" cried Professor Ewes, of the +Mater School. Professor Ewes had read Wyeth's book, +which was loaned to him by one of his teachers, who had +purchased it from one of Wyeth's agents, in two payments. +She had loaned it to Professor Ewes, and Professor +Ewes had, in turn, loaned it to Professor Dawes, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> +Professor Dawes had, in turn, loaned it to another +professor, and after all three had read it, it was returned +to the original purchaser, who had seen the advertisement, +that it was on sale at the biggest white store in the +south, and had been inspired to subscribe for it, on that +account. When the book was returned to her, she had +read fifty odd pages and liked it, so she told Miss Palmer. +She further said, she hoped some day to know the young +man, who had written such a great story. And then +Miss Palmer told her. Forthwith, all interest became +an argument.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say, that fellow is the author of +the book?" she inquired of her professor.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," he said.</p> + +<p>When the agent called for the remainder due, he was +handed the book, with a statement that it was positively +N.G. When the agent opened it, as he was leaving the +rear of the house of the wealthy white people, a book +mark dropped from between pages fifty and fifty-one.</p> + +<p>"Did you read what he said about the teachers?" exclaimed +a supernumerary, stopping in at the drug store, +and seeing everybody excited over the article. Jones +came in behind her.</p> + +<p>"This is where you come in for a big article in your +next week's issue," said Randall, who didn't take any +Negro paper, shoving the article under the eyes of the +Negro editor.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid Mr. Wyeth has said all I would liked to +have said," he replied calmly.</p> + +<p>"What!" several cried, in consternation. "Do you +mean to say that you would have talked about the best +people as this man has!"</p> + +<p>"I mean that I would have tried to. I do not consider +that I possess the ability to arrange it as he has. You +see, his range and vision is beyond mine, which has been +confined to the southland. While he has studied every +section of the country we call the United States, and he +has, as you will observe, written this article in appreciation +of that point of view."</p> + +<p>"But, great goodness, Jones," cried Randall, very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> +much excited, and likewise forgetting that he did not +subscribe for nor advertise in Jones' paper, which was +the best Negro paper in the state. Because, he said to +everybody but Jones himself, it was N.G., and didn't +pay to advertise in it. "See what he has said about our +teachers!"</p> + +<p>"I have seen it. What of it?"</p> + +<p>"It's dreadful—terrible!"</p> + +<p>"About the park and library, you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Sure!"</p> + +<p>"How can you say that—or anything to the contrary, +when you know all he has related there is true?"</p> + +<p>Randall hesitated embarrassed for a moment, then +said: "But he needn't have made such an issue of it!"</p> + +<p>"But it's true?"</p> + +<p>"Well—yes—of course it's true. But—"</p> + +<p>"And about this crime, etc.?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—but—"</p> + +<p>"He shouldn't have told it where the white people +can read it," assisted Jones, grimly. Those about became +quiet very quickly, and looked at each other. Jones saw +the lay of the land, and took his leave.</p> + +<p>"At last, at last!" he cried to himself, as he went up +the street, "the turning point has been reached. When +I write again of civic conditions in my paper, and show +up the fallacies among our own, it'll be read and notice +taken of it."</p> + +<p>All that day, indignation meetings denouncing the +article by Sidney Wyeth, was the order among Effingham's +black people. All the week following, it was +further denounced. And thus we come to the end of +this part of our story.</p> + +<p>As for Sidney Wyeth, he left Effingham. He left +shortly after writing the article, and went to another +city. In that other city, he came back to where he +started—that is, something had come back to him which +was his dream, when we met him in the beginning of our +story.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center big"><a name="BOOK_III" id="BOOK_III"></a>BOOK III</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ONE_3" id="CHAPTER_ONE_3"></a>CHAPTER ONE</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>That Gal's Crooked!</i>"</p> + + +<p>When Mildred Latham left the church, she hurried to +her room, greatly excited. Without delay, she threw her +belongings together as quickly as possible, and without +care. When she had them tied and ready for moving, +she went out, locking the door behind her, and paused +briefly to gaze up and down the street. After a moment, +in which she satisfied herself that neither were in sight, +she hurried down the street to where she knew a man +lived who owned a dray.</p> + +<p>"Can you get a trunk and other matter for me at +once?" she inquired, subduing her excitement.</p> + +<p>"I guess so. Sometime this afternoon. What number, +Miss," he replied, regarding her with admiring eyes. She +bit her lips in vexation.</p> + +<p>"But I would like it moved at once—right away," she +said, quelling her excitement as best she could.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well. Didn't know you were in such a +hurry." He called to a black boy in the rear, and, after +instructions, turned to her and said:</p> + +<p>"Fo'kes out, eh! He-he! Where you want it +dumped?"</p> + +<p>"Oh,——why, yes—oh,—you may just keep it here +until I call for it, please." Without further words, she +hurried away. Down the street she came to a boy with +a push cart, directed him to the address, let him in, saw +to the loading of her luggage, and, when this was completed, +slipped quietly out behind him. When a few +doors away, she paused long enough to gaze longingly +in the direction of the number she had just left. And +then, after a smothered sob, she caught a car that took<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> +her miles to another side of town, and where the houses +were recently built near a new extension of the car +tracks.</p> + +<p>Two hours later, she had succeeded in getting a room +from a woman who had a daughter about her age. She +would get her meals at a small restaurant nearby, until +she could arrange to cook them in her room, or, maybe, +she might be allowed to cook them in the kitchen, on the +stove of the family. She didn't request that privilege +this day, for she was too greatly excited to say more +than she had to.</p> + +<p>"It's terrible," she moaned silently, when alone in the +room she had secured. "I would not have left them +like this for anything in the world; but I could never +stay there and take the risk. I could never look in their +faces again.... But, oh, how I dislike to be away from +them! It is almost the only real home I ever knew, and +the only ones who ever really loved me—but Sidney.... +I must not think of him, I must forget. But can I? +That is what has worried me these months. I can never +forget how he looked at me that day; that day when he +would have spoken....</p> + +<p>"And then he came.... That night—but that was the +end, the end of my dream. And yet, only yesterday, I +don't know why, I couldn't seem to help it; but I had +hopes, dear hopes—but today——" She went to +sleep after a time, and all the night through, was asleep +and awake by turns. It seemed that morning would +never come; and when it did at last, she arose with +heavy eyes.</p> + +<p>She decided to go for a walk, and not canvass that +morning. She was glad now that Constance's work was +in another part of the city, and she could at least go +about hers without any likelihood of meeting her.</p> + +<p>"Did you rest well last night?" inquired the lady of +the house, a hard-faced dark woman, whose appearance +did not appeal to Mildred the night before, and now +she was less impressed than before.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, thank you," she replied quickly. So +much so that the other looked at her keenly, and when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> +Mildred saw her eyes now, she detected an air of suspicion +therein. She flinched perceptibly. The other saw this, +and was more suspicious still.</p> + +<p>"You seem worried, nervous," said the other, with +feigned kindness; but even in the tone, could be discerned +a mockery.</p> + +<p>"I never sleep well when I change rooms and sleep in +a new bed," said Mildred, calmly. The other nodded.</p> + +<p>"This is my daughter," the other announced, as a +tired looking black girl came forward. Mildred accepted +the introduction with forced courtesy, and only returned +the greeting. The other did likewise, while her mother, +appearing to wish to tantalize the feelings of her roomer, +said:</p> + +<p>"You and she can be partners. You must take her, +Myrtle, around to see your friends." She now turned to +Mildred and said: "Myrtle has many admirers, so you +and she can go out anytime and turn on a 'stunt.'" +She smiled a dry hard smile, that almost made Mildred +shudder. She made an excuse, and hurried into the +street, preferring the outside air to the evil atmosphere +she felt within.</p> + +<p>"That gal's crooked," said the black woman to her +daughter, who had just come in that morning.</p> + +<p>"How do you know?" said the other coldly.</p> + +<p>"How do I know!" she repeated derisively. "Do +you suppose I have been in this town and seen a thousand +gals with her sweet face, and not know that she ain' got +a white man—maybe two or three—on her string."</p> + +<p>"You're crooked—so crooked yourself, Ma, that you +see everybody else the same way," said the other, sinking +into a chair and closing her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I've always tried to make you straight, and you +know that," her mother retorted grimly.</p> + +<p>"A crooked mother can't raise a straight daughter. +It's up to the daughter—and I've failed." A moment +later, she was snoring loudly. The other regarded her +now, with a pang in her evil heart. It always made her +sad to see her only daughter like that. She had fostered +hopes, while this one was growing up, that she would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> +be a lady; she had sent her to school with the funds +she got in any way she could; but heredity was too +strong. They wouldn't have the girl after six months, +at the boarding school she attended in Grantville. No, +they expelled her with an emphatic letter, that she +should not return the following season. She swore when +she read the letter from the president, and forthwith +sent her to another. The offense was repeated. She +sent her then to a catholic convent. But in some way +she escaped from this, and when her mother saw her +two months later, she was living in adultery.</p> + +<p>Mildred renewed her canvass that afternoon, and, +under the spell of the work, she was able, after a time, +in part, to forget the worry that possessed her. She +returned to her room, humming a little song, much to +the surprise of herself. She hushed, however, when she +approached the house. The face of the black woman +seemed more cruel every time she saw it. She wished +she had another place. But, since she had moved in, +she decided to make the best of it.</p> + +<p>All that week she worked away diligently. She worked +to forget what had frightened her away from her friends, +and her success was great. She placed the book in scores +of homes through her concentrated efforts, and when +she returned at night, she was invariably so much exhausted, +that she retired early, and fell asleep the minute +she touched the bed, and awakened each morning, rested +and spurred on to a greater effort.</p> + +<p>Sunday came again, and, having grown accustomed to +attending church, she knew it would be a long day for +her without doing so. She inquired of the people regarding +a church, and was embarrassed to have the woman +remark:</p> + +<p>"Oh, you attend church! Well, there's a big Baptist +church down the street and across five blocks; while +there's a smaller one two blocks up."</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Mildred so sweetly, that the other +looked after her with open mouth.</p> + +<p>"I can't make that gal out," she said to her daughter, +as they sat together at breakfast.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm glad of it," growled the daughter, without looking +up.</p> + +<p>"She's a puzzle. Sells a book; but I will never bring +myself to believe that she doesn't do something else on +the side."</p> + +<p>"Evil to him who evil thinks," said her daughter, still +looking in her plate. "I think I might possibly have +been something, Ma, if you hadn't been so evil. Now +what right have you trying to trump up something +against that girl. Supposing she ain't straight, does that +give you any call for all time tryin' t' make her what +she ain' showed herself t' be?" Myrtle was impatient, +and her mother had a way of hushing up when she was +in this mood.</p> + +<p>"She c'n certainly make herself look good," commented +the black woman, as Mildred passed out, and +went down the street in the direction given to the big +church.</p> + +<p>"Has got some clothes, too," she commented further, +as the other remained silent. "She certainly knows how +t' have her men. Don't none of'm bother about where +she lives; and 'she goes t' church on Sunday.'" She +laughed a low, hard laugh, but did not look in her +daughter's direction.</p> + +<p>Mildred found the church. It was indeed a large +structure. And a large crowd attended it. She sat to +one side, where a window was raised, and the soft air +floated in above her. As she caught the strains of the +mammoth pipe organ, and heard the music from a score +or more voices in the choir, she thought of her friends +as never before, since she left them. She had told +Wilson—who was so good—that some day he'd be the +pastor of a big church. A big church like this, where +thousands of people attended. Only forty members comprised +his congregation; he was delighted, she recalled, +when as many as one hundred attended. And she had +wanted so much to help Wilson Jacobs and his sister in +their great effort. As she recalled how unceremoniously +she had left them, and at the very time they needed her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> +more than ever, she experienced a pain that made her +turn in the pew.</p> + +<p>She heard the pastor now. He was preaching. She +settled herself for a long sermon. That was the kind the +Baptists preached, she judged. Soon she found herself +listening to the words that came from his lips. He told +the story of Damon and Pythias. How glorious, she +thought! Pythias was a man—and so was Damon. +They were strong men—with, what was that, she was +thinking of it all the time? Yes, they were strong men +with the strength of their convictions. "Amen" came +all about her. And still the pastor was preaching. And +he was preaching a good sermon. She heard it all, and +it concerned men—and the strength of their convictions.</p> + +<p>"To be a Christian," she heard him now, "you must +be strong. You must be courageous, and willing to +sacrifice for your brother, as was Damon for Pythias. +There are those who are Christians with all the feeling—on +Sunday. Monday, they are like any other sinner. This +version of Christianity and religion, is the reason Hell is +getting so many people every day. Sometimes when I +think it over, I don't wonder; because, all my life, I +have been constrained to observe, that too many people +regard Jesus as the individual, and not as the moral. +It is the moral of the Christ, his teachings and example, +that we are to follow. We do not know him, insofar as +the Christian sense is concerned, as an individual. But +it is a fact that so many of our preachers wax eloquent, +and literally bring down the heavens, and, likewise, +great demonstration from the congregation thereby. +But, to be a successful practitioner, one must be strong; +he must stand for something; to be a successful farmer, +a man must be practical; to be a successful business +man, requires application and fortitude; to be a good +husband, and the father of a happy family, requires +strength—in short, to be anything in this life, requires +strength! Therefore, dear friends, fancy, if you can, +how a weak man can be a Christian. For, to be a +Christian, requires the strength of all things."</p> + +<p>She was moved. Oh, it was a relief to listen to a good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> +sermon! And she was glad to hear a Baptist preacher +speak so forcibly in such terms. She was not so very +well acquainted with this denomination and its pastors; +but, from her observation, she had almost concluded +that they appealed to the emotion, rather than to strength. +She wondered now, as she saw him making gestures in +emphasizing his words, whether he had taken any interest +in the Y.M.C.A. She decided to find out, if she became +an attendant of this church.</p> + +<p>When the sermon had closed, she contributed liberally +to the table, whereupon she was looked at closely by the +man who took collections. When she had reseated herself, +and glanced in the direction of the table, she saw +the man pointing her out to the pastor, whose eyes, for +a moment, rested upon her in curiosity.</p> + +<p>When she was leaving the church at the close of the +services, someone touched her arm. She turned quickly, +with a pang of the heart, recalling with fright, having +been touched a week before. She had no need to fear, +however. It was the man who had taken collections.</p> + +<p>"The pastor would like a word with you, Madam," he +said, with his hat in his hand, and all politeness. She +blushed, and then, turning, followed him back into the +church, where she came upon the pastor, standing among +several people.</p> + +<p>"Ah," he said, advancing as soon as she drew near. +"And this is the young lady we observed. Pardon me, +Miss, but you are a stranger among us. We wish you to +feel welcome in our church. I hope the service didn't +bore you." He was a good man. Her ideal of a true +Christian. She replied with embarrassment, and blushed +fearfully:</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, indeed not, Sir! I enjoyed the service—oh, +ever so much! And I am delighted to be made welcome +here. I hope to come to services very often—every +Sunday. I think you preached a wonderful sermon!" +She paused now, too embarrassed to go on. He saw it, +and made haste to dispell it. Introductions followed, +and invitations were the order.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was over now, and she was happy. At that moment, +she felt at peace with the world. And this included the +evil black woman with whom she roomed, and who +didn't attend church. She grasped the hands that now +sought hers, and murmured kind words. Then she +turned, and before her stood the man with the scar. +She uttered a low cry, and the next moment, fell prone +upon her face, in a dead faint.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWO_3" id="CHAPTER_TWO_3"></a>CHAPTER TWO</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>It Was In That Church Last Sunday!</i>"</p> + + +<p>The Sunday following Mildred's departure was a sad +one in the Jacobs' household. Since she came to it +months before, Sunday had always been distinguished +from other days. It was then that all talked and smiled, +and indulged at length in other pastimes that make +home happy. And that is why today was the saddest +day they—Constance and her brother—felt they had +ever experienced. Neither could keep their gaze from +wandering to the empty chair, and down in the hearts of +each was a constant cry, though both surpressed it with +a mighty effort: "Where is she today?"</p> + +<p>It was Wilson who broke the silence. Was it perhaps +the one woman who had filled that empty chair only +last Sunday, gay, cheerful, happy and hopeful? Wilson +Jacobs felt as though he should choke. Constance saw +his emotion 'ere he spoke, and experienced a choking +sensation also. She hadn't become reconciled to the +absence, and all the week through, she had been like +one in a trance.</p> + +<p>"Can we ever give Mildred up, Constance?" Constance +did not reply. She did not raise her head for +fear he might happen to see her eyes. But after a time, +she could hold back the tears no longer. All at once +they came in a flood, and her whole being gave up to +convulsive sobs.</p> + +<p>"There, there, dear," he cried, rising and coming +hurriedly around to where she sat. Whereupon she +became worse. He raised her to a standing posture, and +took her affectionately in his arms, but the weeping went +on unchecked. He held her and stroked her hair with +his hand, but said nothing. He could not, for he was +too overcome himself. By and by, he knew it would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> +pass, and then they would speak of her in the terms they +had known her. She was a good girl.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Wilson, I will never get over it—never, never, +never!" Constance moaned and gripped him convulsively. +"Just think of it, too, and when we were +beginning to realize how much she was to both of us. +And just think how she acted about the Y.M.C.A.! +Went to the bank and drew all the money she had saved +this summer, walking by day in the sun to sell the book, +and gave it, every dollar of it, to the cause of our people!" +She cried harder now than ever. He drew her closer, +and as he did so, one tear dropped from his eye upon +her hair. She never felt it, and he would not have had +her know for anything. He was a strong man, and had +ever kept from tears.</p> + +<p>"If we could only do something, only help a little," +he said now, in a constrained voice. "I would give the +rest of my life to the cause of that girl," he said, with +words that spelled of fire. "Whatever this lurking evil +is that has driven her from the protection of those who +love her, <i>it was in that church last Sunday</i>!" He paused +now, and while he stood silent, his sister released herself, +looking at him for a moment sympathetically, and then +sank again into the chair.</p> + +<p>Their breakfast had been neglected, forgotten, and was +growing cold. "Come, Wilson," she called softly, and +pointed to his plate. He heard her and obeyed. They +ate in absolute silence, automatically putting from their +minds the emotion that had possessed them.</p> + +<p>And even as he ate the food, with the strength it +required to force it down, his mind played about the +incident connected with her strange leaving. He tried +vainly to recall who was at the church that he did not +know. And it occurred to him that there were many. +Yes. There were many; then he remembered suddenly +how cheered he had been, when he saw his little church +filled to its capacity. He recalled with a pang, that, as +he stood at the rostrum, Mildred had passed, and, upon +seeing him, had glanced at the congregation that had +gathered, and then back at him and smiled. He con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span>tinued +his meal, but he knew he could never forget that +smile.</p> + +<p>Mildred Latham had wanted to help him. And when +she saw his small church filled with people that day, +some there purposely, while others were merely curious, +she had, in that smile, shown how glad she was. It was +that unselfishness about her, which was evident in many +little ways, and which had finally won him.</p> + +<p>And she had played and sung that day with all the +strength of her body and soul. She had struggled in +every way she knew how, to help him in his great effort. +She had gone to the bank and drawn all she had saved in +the months he had known her, as further evidence of her +regard for this human welfare. She had acted, in doing +so, at the most opportune time. With such a sum from +an unknown girl, others, during the week, had surprised +even themselves by subscribing sums that made the +success of his work seemed assured. And cash was given +where it might not have been otherwise. He knew his +people a little. And when someone started the ball +rolling, by means of patience, fortitude, hard work and +application to the task, others can be found who will +keep it going.</p> + +<p>And why had Mildred Latham done this? Certainly +she had not done so because she was in love with him. +She had never shown any affection for him in that way. +She had been interested in him, because she felt that he +was sincere in his effort to help his fellow men. And she +had given the sum to the proposed Y.M.C.A., because +she was <i>interested in humanity</i>, and that was her mite +to prove it....</p> + +<p>And on the heels of this, she had—almost in the same +moment, been driven from the place she had appreciated +as home.... Who was this beast, for positively he was +a beast.... When he got to a man in the case, he could +never go further. For, think as he might, he could not, +in some way, connect her with a man. A man it might +be; but he felt positive she had no relation with anyone. +And yet, what was it? Just something, and after that, +all was blank.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span></p> + +<p>They had finished their meal now. And he rose and +strolled out upon the porch. He drew a cigar and, +lighting it, started to smoke. It was a beautiful morning, +and one to make even the sorrowful happy. But Wilson +Jacobs was not happy. He gave up to the delight of the +moment, and for a time, he forgot the harrowing sorrows.</p> + +<p>The trees that lined the street were heavy with foliage, +and gave forth the sound of many song birds; while a +soft wind made the leaves rustle ever so little.</p> + +<p>Presently, a man came down the street. On he came +until he was even with the house, and then, for a brief +spell, he paused at the gate. Until then, he had apparently +not observed the man sitting on the porch. +He glanced up and saw him. Then, with something +akin to an air of guilt, the stranger passed on, and, as +he did so, Wilson gave a start. His thoughts flew back +over the past, with electric rapidity. Where had he +seen that man before? "Where, where, where?" His +thoughts were fairly alive. His lips grasped the cigar so +tightly, that the lighted end fell to the floor, for he had +bitten it in two, in his excitement. He kicked it from +him with impatience, while he ransacked his brains in +deep thought. "Where, where, where?" he cried, now +almost aloud. And, strange as it seemed, in some way +he connected this man with the disappearance of Mildred +Latham. He raised his hands to his head to steady the +thumping there, which by now had reached a state of +violence. Just then the sexton rang the bell of his church +next door. The same broke forth upon the clear morning +air in stentorian tones, and floated beyond, and then +Wilson Jacobs sat up quickly, bolt upright.</p> + +<p>"I have it! <i>I have it!</i>" he cried in a subdued voice, +while his very frame trembled. "It was at the meeting. +That man came in late, I recall it all now. He came in +late and I saw him. He, I recall now, appeared to have +no interest in the service; but his eyes sought something, +and then I caught him looking at Mildred with a +cunning expression!" Why had he not thought of this +before? It was all clear to him now, as he arose.</p> + +<p>And then it occurred to him to follow. He tore into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> +the house, and seizing his hat, hurried out and through +the yard, came into the street and looked in the direction +which he had seen the other take. No one was in sight. +He hesitated a moment, and then hurried forward in +that direction. He presently came abreast of a house +where people sat upon the porch. He halted a moment +as they called out his name pleasantly, bidding him good +morning. He calmed himself, and after returning the +greeting, inquired quite casually whether a man had +passed that way recently, and he gave a description +of him.</p> + +<p>"No; but such a man as you describe came down as +far as the corner back there," one of them explained, +"and turned in that direction," and he pointed west.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he nodded calmly, and then retreated +until he came to the place the other had turned. He +stood for a moment, apparently lost in thought, while +the people on the porch stared at him carelessly. A +moment later, he passed in the direction the other had +taken.</p> + +<p>But, while he had been advised that the other had +gone in that direction, no one was in sight, he now saw +with sinking heart. He walked for two blocks, making +inquiries as he went, but no one had seen such a man. +He was downcast for a time. Presently, he returned to +his home in a disappointed mood. As he came by the +church, the doors were open, and his few members were +filing scatteringly in. He hurried into his clothes, and +a few minutes later, stood before his congregation reading +the text.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THREE_3" id="CHAPTER_THREE_3"></a>CHAPTER THREE</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Uh! 'es Got'im a Nigga!</i>"</p> + + +<p>When Mildred awakened, she found herself stretched +upon a pew, with her head in a woman's lap, while the +pastor and many others whom she had met a few minutes +before, stood about with anxious expressions. Two ladies +were fanning her face vigorously. She awoke with a +start, and recalled quickly the moment she had fainted. +She had never done so before, and had often wondered +how people must feel when they fainted. She knew now; +but that was not what she thought of, when it became +clear to her. The man was her chief concern. She sat +up and looked about her quickly. If she saw him, she +felt that she must certainly lose consciousness again.</p> + +<p>He was gone. With a sigh, she sank back into the +arms of the woman for a moment. The fanning was more +vigorous now than ever. All was quiet about her. She +did not first understand it. Was it because they were +afraid it might disturb her; or was it—had they seen—and +<i>understood</i>? She was too weak just then to speculate +about the situation; but she was delighted to hear +the pastor say, a moment later, stroking her forehead +kindly:</p> + +<p>"You feel better now, Miss?"</p> + +<p>She nodded, and felt now like crying. She understood +facial expressions, and they had not seen. She was so +relieved—for the present, and did not think then of the +future. She had that to worry over later, and for this +moment at least, she was relieved. These good people +hadn't suspected the cause of her swoon. She sat up +now, smiled with thanks upon those about her, and +wiped the cold perspiration from her forehead. Someone +held her hat, which they now handed to her. She +placed it upon her head, covering the mass of hair that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> +many were looking at a moment before, with natural +admiration. Thanking them again in a kind and embarrassed +manner, she turned and left them, while they +followed to the door, and went their many ways.</p> + +<p>When she got back to her room, she experienced a +spell of nervousness when she entered. She saw the +black woman's face for a moment, and was again relieved. +The other had not been there, so she nodded coldly, +and entered her room. She closed the door, and, removing +her apparel, got into a kimono and threw herself +upon the bed.</p> + +<p>She had no thoughts for a time, but surrendered herself +to idleness for perhaps a half hour, and then her +mind began to react. It took the form of reminiscence. +Sidney Wyeth came back into her memory, and for a +long time she lay thinking entirely of him.</p> + +<p>It was he—and he never knew what had started her +on this strange journey. She now recalled—or tried to +recall why. And then after a time she knew. Yes. +She loved Sidney Wyeth, and it was that which had +made the difference. But what kind of love was this +that had no hope? And yet did she not hope?</p> + +<p>As she lay with the hot air floating in upon her, she +gazed out into the street, where a dozen or so little black +boys played. She thought, with her mind idly drifting, +and she saw these boys as men, in her idle fancy. They +gathered presently in a circle, and when she watched +them in her half-conscious, half-waking manner for a +few minutes, she saw they were shooting craps. Think +of it! These boys, ranging in years from eight to twelve. +And they were already engaged in that demoralizing +pastime. She trembled with sorrow as she watched the +game proceed. Soon she saw that an argument of some +kind had come up. They became very demonstrative, +and while this was going on, suddenly, from a remote +direction, a blue-coated policeman appeared upon the +scene. There was a scramble and they flew in many +directions. All escaped, with the exception of one. He +was a cripple, and as he tried to hobble away, the burly +cop swooped down upon him. He grasped him, without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> +regard for his infirmity, and disappeared up the street, +dragging the cripple with him.</p> + +<p>And that was a common occurrence in this city. +Hundreds of young men—boys—were started on a +career of crime by premeditated arrests. They were +often placed in jail when they were so young, that it was +a tragedy. When they came out—for the courts could +not bring themselves to sentence below a certain age—they +were then pointed at as having "been in jail." And +since they had the name, they often thereafter diligently +sought the game.</p> + +<p>As the policeman passed up the street with the pitiful +cripple, she rushed to the window to look after him. +A little boy stuck his head through a broken fence, and +she heard him say, as they went by: "Uh! 'es got 'im +a nigga!"</p> + +<p>Mildred stretched herself upon the bed again; but her +thoughts were now of something else. The Y.M.C.A. +and Wilson Jacobs. At this same hour last Sunday, she +had been with him in his effort—his great effort. And +the need of such an effort had just been demonstrated a +few minutes before, almost beneath her very eyes.</p> + +<p>There was no place to go; no place, as a rule, where +young men would go, and this helped to make it so bad. +Young men will play pool, some of them, and they will +seek some kind of diversion, other than the church. +Their natures call for these things, and she knew it. +Since freedom, the Negro has not been sufficiently +practical to appreciate this point of view. Plenty of +churches are available, and services are held all day +Sunday. And it is easy, so easy, to say they ought to +go—everybody <i>ought</i> to go. But <i>does</i> everybody go? +<i>Would</i> everybody go? And the most discouraging part +of it is that <i>everybody does</i> not go.</p> + +<p>Some young men, if there were a clean place to go and +indulge in the pastimes that are a custom with many of +them, would be glad to avail themselves of the opportunity. +Yes, they would be glad. And, by so doing, +they would perforce meet others, who were likewise seeking +amusement. Thus brought together, they would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> +know and appreciate the good in each other. And still +further, when they would go their many ways in life, +they would naturally spread the gospel of good, or whatever +was worth while. Such was the natural tendency +of environment. She had just witnessed such an example, +a mere incident in the city's life. Those boys had not all +known the game when they began to play. But those +who did know it, and had likewise learned it from somebody +else, had, of course, in turn taught it to these +others, who would in turn teach it still to others, and +so on. Evil environment, bad influence. She had seen +these lurking evils in so many places in this city of the +south. And, as the months went by, they took heavy +toll in startling numbers among the black children.</p> + +<p>The effort of Wilson Jacobs would not soon be appreciated. +It would take years for all these young men +to see and know the real worth of such an institution. +But it was the duty of society, nevertheless (and what +was the church but the center of society), to put forward +all its efforts toward the evolution of its members.</p> + +<p>Oh, some day Mildred Latham hoped she could do more. +Apparently, for the present, she had done her best. But, +as to how she could continue doing that which she loved +better than anything else to do, helping others, she could +not now see clearly. She had no plans whatever for the +future, as she lay stretched across the bed this warm +afternoon. She had no thought of leaving the city, and +still, she now knew that it was only a question of time +when she would hear from this man again. He had said +nothing, but she had read evil in his eyes. He <i>would</i> +strike sooner or later, of that she was sure. But she +was now resigned to the inevitable. She decided to +continue her work the next day, and to be brave. She +was away from those whom she would dislike to see +embarrassed. Maybe he might go about his business, if +he had any, and let her alone. That was all she asked. +If he spoke to her again, and forced himself upon her, +she would ask him to do so. She would even beg him +not to annoy her. And in the next thought, she realized +how useless this would be.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was in the street now, and was walking along. +This part of the city stood upon a considerable hill, and +some distance away ran the mighty river. Its muddy +water could be seen from where she stood. In that +moment, she wanted to be within its shining ripples. +They led to the mightier ocean, hundreds of miles below. +Impulsively she now sought the river, and decided to +walk all the way. She had walked to it when she had +stayed with her dear friends—yes, very often. And then, +as she thought of them, a fear arose in her bosom, that +she might possibly meet them. That would never do, +and she turned back. Oh, why could she not meet them? +How much would it have meant to her to feel herself in +Constance's arms; to feel those kisses upon her cheek, +and to know that someone loved her. Yes, to see Wilson, +and appreciate his great kindness. When these pleasant +thoughts had spent themselves, she realized they could +never be anything more to her. No. She could go back there, +and they would take her in and ask no questions; they +would be good to her, and appreciate her desire to do +good; but it would always be different—now. No. +Her life was before her—she must work out her own +destiny. Whither would it lead? She made no effort to +answer this question.</p> + +<p>She thought now of Wyeth. She formed his name with +her lips, and spoke it aloud, and was made strangely +happy and forgetful of that which troubled her, when +she heard it pronounced. She repeated it: "Sidney." +Oh, but to hear him call to her now as he did that day! +The day they danced, and she had heard him stifle the +passion; she had seen his eyes, and they had hypnotised +her; and, in that moment of sweet insanity, she had not +resisted the kiss that she saw he would imprint. No. +And she had never been sorry. Somehow, that one +moment had been her guiding star. She would continue +into the future, and thus it would always continue so.</p> + +<p>She arrived at the place—not home. She could never +call this place home; but where she had her room. She +came around to the rear; she did not know why. And +then she was sorry too. Ranged about, without regard<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> +as to how they sat, were men and women. Their faces +were flushed, while their smiles were amorous. She +almost choked as she begged pardon, and hurried around +to the front. She had not gotten out of reach of their +voices, when she heard the men say: "Gee! Some kid! +Who is she?"</p> + +<p>"Aw, she's a little nicey, nicey girlie, that don't drink, +nor smoke, nor chew, nor—anything; but goes t' church +on Sunday," the black woman answered, and laughed a +nasty laugh.</p> + +<p>She was in her room and was glad she was shut away +from the comment. To forget it, she busied herself with +the names of her subscribers, and worked over the same +until the sun had disappeared for the day, and twilight +was in the air. She lit a small lamp, drew down the +shade, and, taking up <i>The Tempest</i>, read until sleepiness +drove her to bed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOUR_3" id="CHAPTER_FOUR_3"></a>CHAPTER FOUR</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>"Please Go!" She Cried Hoarsely</i></p> + + +<p>Weeks had passed, and Mildred Latham had not seen +the man since that Sunday at church. She had become +an active worker in the big Baptist church. She had +no thought of becoming so, but, somehow, she couldn't +keep out of it. Such a great crowd of people attended it +each Sunday! But they are not the select class of people +she had met at the Presbyterian. They consisted of all +classes, and from every walk in life. Among them, +she met many of her subscribers, and was pleased +to be remembered by them. They impressed her, all of +them, as being good people. In fact, she could never +believe many of them bad. They were simple and too +free in their thoughts—when they had any. They impressed +her, at times, as so many children. Many of +those who came to the church regularly, did not, she observed, +pay the least attention to the sermon. For the +most part, the large majority could not even have +remembered the text.</p> + +<p>And yet they came every Sunday in great numbers, +in droves even. Many of them were very beautifully +dressed. There were no kinky heads among them, +albeit, the original had been so. The most of the hair +which was theirs by birth was all straight, while the +acquired portion was beautifully matched.</p> + +<p>But the point that reconciled her, was the fact that +the pastor was a good man, and a fit one. He preached +always the sermon that spoke of practical uplift. And +this, she judged, after a time, was why he was not liked +by all, and why also, a great many made not the slightest +effort to listen to his sermons.</p> + +<p>"Aw, Reverend Castle don't preach this religion lak I +wants to hear it preached," some complained.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Um—m!" exploded others.</p> + +<p>"They ain' no 'ligion no mo' 'mong the people; they +is all out fo' style!" still others said.</p> + +<p>And thus it went. "Out for style," was, in a great +measure, quite true; but Reverend Castle's sermons +could easily be understood, if those who attended made +any effort whatever to do so. But they did not, and +Mildred could never reconcile herself to this.</p> + +<p>Back in Cincinnati, she recalled when she used to +attend a certain theatre. The only reason colored people +were allowed to purchase admittance, was because they +did not come in great numbers. There were theaters +where they were denied entrance, because they made +such disgusting disturbances. And it was only because +they would come and make no effort to understand the +performance, unless it was something below par, and +something entirely comic.</p> + +<p>In this city, she had attended a great motion picture +drama. It was a play built upon an incident in the +history of the struggle for Christianity—the effort to overthrow +the power of Caesar. Above all, it was a play for +Christians, which these multitudes professed very loudly +to be. And yet the entire performance was disturbed by +the gallery, where only the <i>black</i> people were allowed to +sit. They were assigned this portion, because so few +understood or made any effort to understand the play. +These were some of the facts in the lives of her people, +which exposed the Negro to the contempt of the white +race.</p> + +<p>Wilson Jacobs and Reverend Castle were preachers of +a new type, and there were many other such ministers; +but the masses continued to preach in the old style, +regardless of the fact that many had prepared themselves +to preach as these men did. The old type still continued +to work upon the emotional fibre of the congregation. +And, likewise, in so doing, others were disturbed who +wished to be taught. But the sermons of Reverends +Jacobs and Castle were not disturbed by emotional +demonstrations. The people were, if the truth be known, +inspired to higher ideals and a more lofty conception of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> +life. Christ was pictured in such sermons, not as the +moralist, but in the highest type of perfection, as an +incentive to noble conduct.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Autumn finally came with its many varied tints, and +the leaves were falling. Jack Frost had placed his +feathery designs for the third time upon the window +panes, and, in the meantime, the work for social betterment +went on apace.</p> + +<p>The effort toward the securing of the colored Y.M.C.A., +as it was referred to, had proceeded to the extent that +it was on everybody's lips. Wilson Jacobs had proved +to be a secretary of unusual efficiency.</p> + +<p>Mildred kept herself informed of it through the columns +of the papers, and was always delighted to see that subscriptions +were being paid to an encouraging degree; +but she saw that, of the thirty-five thousand dollars to be +raised by the colored people of the city, only six thousand +dollars had been paid in, after two months campaigning. +This was encouraging, nevertheless, for Grantville, with +a much more intelligent Negro population, had only +secured two-thirds of this amount at the end of six months. +Yet twenty-nine thousand dollars were to be paid in. +This amount had been over subscribed, but, getting the +money was a different story. Would the black people of +this town pay the twenty-nine thousand dollars before, or +by the first of the coming year? For, on that day, the +time limit of the Jew's contribution would expire; also, +that from other sources; but it was the money from the +Jew philanthropist, that figured most prominently. +Frankly, when Mildred saw it, she smothered her doubts +as to their ability of obtaining the desired amount.</p> + +<p>Rallies for the purpose of raising money were given +weekly, but winter-time was approaching, and colored +people very often had little set aside for such a purpose. +Then, already work was shutting down, and had shut +down in many cases. Hard times had been felt for some +time, but were beginning to be felt more so. Men by +the hundreds walked the streets in search of employment, +and found instead, trouble. Arresting for vagrancy had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> +been stopped by the order of the court. Many preferred +being locked up, for they complained it was so difficult +to secure bread, and even at times an impossibility; +whereas, while locked up, they could eat. And that +meant much.</p> + +<p>Churches were now begging for money to buy coal; +the annual interest on indebtedness was past due, and +Reverend Castle did double work—the Y.M.C.A. and +his church.</p> + +<p>And it was about this time, when one evening Mildred +returned from her work, and was informed by the black +woman, that she had a caller. She was surprised, and +looked it. The black woman was too, and she likewise +looked it. Moreover, she made comment. Mildred had +never had a caller before.</p> + +<p>"A gentleman," said the other, when the look of +surprise spread over her face. The other winked and +continued: "Some guy, too. Yes, swell," and laughed +in a way which Mildred always disliked to hear.</p> + +<p>"Who was he?" she presently inquired, thinking of +someone with a growing fear.</p> + +<p>"Didn't leave no name; said you wouldn't know it +nohow," whereupon her black face took on a look that +was tantalizing. Mildred ended it by going to her room. +She felt the call would be repeated. And then would +come the climax. She experienced a tired feeling. This +being sought by one whom she did not seek, was nerve-racking; +but she steeled herself for the ordeal. She +hoped, since she now felt that he would call, that he +would come again that same evening, and she would +have it over.</p> + +<p>And he did.</p> + +<p>She was about to retire, but not to sleep. For, as the +time passed, her nerve began to break under the strain +of waiting, and she was fatigued.</p> + +<p>"The gentleman has returned, Miss," announced the +voice of the black woman, as her fingers played upon +the door. Mildred opened it forthwith, and—yes, there +he was. He pushed himself in without being asked, and, +being surprised at the intrusion, Mildred let go the knob,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> +whereupon he grasped it, and closed the door. He smiled +at her now; a smile that lurked, that boded no good; +and she felt this, with a heaving of the breast.</p> + +<p>"Haven't seen you for some time. Why don't you +bid me welcome?" he leered. Her eyes stared at him +coldly, but her bosom heaved, nevertheless.</p> + +<p>"Don't stare at me as if I were an iceberg," said the +other, with his smiles. "Just an old acquaintance from"—and +he jerked his thumb in the apparent direction of Cincinnati. +He smiled a cruel, hard smile, as he did this, +dropped uninvited into a chair and lit a cigarette.</p> + +<p>"Have one?" he invited, and then snickered. "You +are real cute now-a-days, I observe," he tortured. "Quite +a church lady, ha, ha!" And he gave up to his mirth +for a few seconds. "Quite cute with the preachers. +Wilson Jacobs is 'bugy' 'bout you. Awful bad for you +t' get up and steal away so mysteriously." He looked +at her now with ill concealed glee, and then continued: +"I didn't know you'd 'beat' it until the next Sunday; +when I passed I didn't see you sitting on the porch with +him; but, instead, he sat there alone, looking like the +devil before dawn. About the time I saw him, he saw +me, and looked at me as if he had caught me trying to +break in his house, or something, so I lit out. I 'hunched' +you'd fled d' coup then, 'n' as I was 'beating' it down the +street in no slow gate, I see's a drayman a-greasin' his +old hack. I had a premonition this guy, the way he +regarded me, was likely to follow. So I just slips into +this old crow's nest, and gets behind some-a-his junk, +and gets int' conversation with him, and, sure enough, +it wasn't three minutes before this 'preacher' comes +walking by a-lookin' right and left for me. I laffed in +my sleeve, and continued talking with the old skate. +A bent key encountered my hand on the ground, 'n' I +raised it up. The old buzzard spied it, and cried: 'That's +a gal's key that come down heah t' have me move her in +a hurry las' Sunday. I oughtta sent it to'r, but 'lows +I ain' got the time.' Just lak a flash, I get's wise, so I +says t' 'im: 'Was she the girl that stayed up at Jacobs'? +If so, I'll carry it to her, since she's a'friend a-mine's.'<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> +'By gad,' he coughs, ''n' I'm the one that'll let y' too,' +and looked grateful. 'Where did she move to?' I inquired +like I didn't care, and then added: 'Y' see, I +know the place by sight, but I can't find it 's I'm turned +around down here a little.' He puts me next, and I beats +it up to where youse 's roostin' 'n' I comes up, I see this +ole black hen a-workin' away with the house all open, +'n' nobody about, I dopes at once that you, sweet little +girlie, is off some'eres to church.</p> + +<p>"You know the rest," and rising now, he came toward +her. "You ought t' be willin' t' give me a kiss now, +honey, for showing how hard I'm willin' to hustle for a +sight a them eyes." He advanced to where she stood. +He smiled as he came, while she recoiled from the sight +of him, and retreated. That appeared to please him, and +he began a merry chase, dodging behind chairs and +jumping up and down playfully. "Wants t' tease, eh? +That's a way with you little women, yu lak t' tease! +Ah! That's what makes us lak yu'. 'N', kid, I sho' +does lak you. You are a pretty little wench—I mean +little gal," he corrected, continuing his chase.</p> + +<p>"Please go!" she cried hoarsely. "I don't know you. +I don't want to know you. Why do you torment me!" +He only smiled now, and looked grim and determined, +as he at last cornered her. Between them was a chair. +She got behind it, and grasped the back of it. He halted +on the other side, and showed his teeth for a full minute, +before he said a word, or a word was spoken.</p> + +<p>"Did you hear me! Why don't you go! If you were a +gentleman, you'd go!" His eyes narrowed to mere slits, +and then he suddenly opened them wide.</p> + +<p>"Just a kiss, dearie, why all this argument. Sometimes +it goes so far that it spoils all the sweetness. Just +allow me to turn this chair until I can be seated, and +then I will draw you down, nicey, upon my knee, and +everything is O.K.—see!" He now grasped the chair, +which, despite her efforts to hold it as it was, he twisted +slowly from her grasp. The next minute he had +succeeded, and nothing was between them. He made +one step in her direction, whereupon she recoiled in fright.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span> +He caught her wrist with his right, and then with the +left, he proceeded to encircle her waist. The next moment, +she felt his hot breath in her face, and then, with her +free hand, she struck him a resounding smack full on +his cheek, with all her strength. He released her so +quickly, that he staggered backward blindly for a moment. +The next he had recovered, while his face was colored +with the blood she had brought to it. His eyes were +narrower now than ever, while his voice, as he spoke, +came in gasps.</p> + +<p>"Why, you little wench! You little imp! You little +fourflusher! You little —— strike me, when I have kept +my head closed all this time, while you sailed about here +with these big niggers, the nicest little nicey. Ha! +<i>Nice</i>—<i>Hell!</i> How long do you figure these church people +would kite you about, if I told them <i>what you were back +in Cinci'</i>!"</p> + +<p>She flew to the door now, and jerked it wide. A bundle +of meat with clothes on, fell in with a scream. It was +the black woman, and she had heard all.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIVE_3" id="CHAPTER_FIVE_3"></a>CHAPTER FIVE</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>The Time Limit</i></p> + + +<p>"What is the total, Constance?" her brother inquired +wearily, as his sister poured over a long list of figures on +a balance sheet before her.</p> + +<p>"In a minute," she said and continued her figuring. +Presently, with a sigh she straightened up, and handed +him a sheet, showing a list of names, at the right of which +was registered various amounts.</p> + +<p>"Seven thousand six hundred fifty-nine dollars and +fifteen cents," he repeated, half aloud. He looked at his +sister, and saw in her tired eyes, failure staring them in +the face. Unless something extraordinary occurred, the +chances of securing a Y.M.C.A. for the colored youth +of the city was doomed to failure. He laid the sheet +down, and picked up another piece of paper—a letter. +He had read it several times, but now he read it again. +He didn't want to believe what was written upon it, +and signed by the Jew philanthrophist. But it was +before him in plain, typewritten words, and was to this +effect:</p> + +<blockquote class="small"> +<p> +<i>Mr. Wilson Jacobs</i>,</p> +<p class="ind"><i>Secretary</i> <i>Y.M.C.A.</i> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">My Dear Sir</span>: Receipt of your letter of December 1, is here +acknowledged. I note carefully what you say in regard to your +efforts in relation to the securing of funds for the Y.M.C.A. for +the colored youth of your city.</p> + +<p>You are of course aware that my offer, made five years ago, in +which I agreed to give the sum of $25,000 to any city, where an +additional sum of $75,000 was forthcoming from other sources. +The time I made that offer was five years ago January of the coming +year. Therefore, the time will expire at twelve, December 31, +this month.</p> + +<p>With regard to extending the time limit on these gifts, I regret +to say that I have made no such provision. Moreover, with the +present condition of the financial outlook, I cannot see my way<span class="spagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> +clear to do so. However, all cities that report favorably up to that +date, I will fulfill my agreement.</p> + +<p>Regretting that I cannot write you more favorably, but hoping +it will be possible for you to comply with my offer, I beg to remain,</p> + +<p class="midind"> +Very truly, <span class="smcap">J. Rosenthal</span>. +</p></blockquote> + +<p>He laid the letter aside. He had known before he +wrote, what to expect, for announcements had come from +Grantville, that the philanthropist would not extend the +time on his gifts for this purpose. Hard times had +spread over the country, until not enough was being +collected to maintain the cost of the office and advertising, +notwithstanding the fact that they secured it at the +smallest possible rate. Both were compelled to acknowledge +now that a failure seemed imminent. To secure the +gift of the Jew, it was necessary for them to raise still +more than twenty-seven thousand dollars.</p> + +<p>Could he raise such a sum in view of prevailing circumstances?</p> + +<p>"Have you received a decision from the railroad +president, who personally contributed five hundred +dollars, Wilson?" Constance now inquired.</p> + +<p>"The hoped for appropriations for such purposes have +been deferred indefinitely," he replied. "So there is no +hope now, only from the local interests, and they, I fear, +are hopeless."</p> + +<p>"And you see no place where such a sum might be +raised—in so short a time?" she asked again, a trifle +nervous.</p> + +<p>"Only to go north, and try to enlist the sympathy of +other philanthropic persons."</p> + +<p>"And—will—you go?" She looked at him now, +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I will go," he returned.</p> + +<p>"May God be with us!" she sighed, and picked up +the afternoon paper. She glanced over it, and saw the +usual accounts relating to the shutting down of various +industrial concerns, and, as she looked further, there were +the same accounts regarding the colored people. The +business of fighting and stealing and getting drunk went +on more actively than usual, if such were possible. She +laid it aside presently, and picked up her subscription<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> +list. She was still selling the book, and had a great +many sales for the holiday trade.</p> + +<p>When she paid the charges on a consignment of books +a few minutes later, and unwrapped them, she thought of +her dear friend who had brought her attention to the +work. How much she would have liked to see her, she +did not conjecture; but she was glad now she had taken +up the work. The returns from the sale of it, had meant +a great deal to the home in the past months. Wilson, +who usually made some money otherwise than what he +received from the church, which was small, had been +unable to look after or give his time to anything but the +work of the Y.M.C.A. Therefore, the money from +the sale of the book had come in at an opportune time.</p> + +<p>As for Mildred, the earth seemed to have swallowed +her, insofar as they had been able to ascertain. Wilson +had worried to a point where he now looked ten years +older than he had six months before. Grantville had +given up in despair. Five thousand dollars was all they +had been able to raise, and, therefore, realized how +useless it was to continue the effort, which had subsequently +come to an end. She believed in her brother; +she was confident he could raise the amount necessary, +if he had the time. If the gift from the Jew could have +been possible a year hence, she was confident he could +raise the balance; but, with less than four weeks, it +seemed hopeless.</p> + +<p>And yet, "as long as there is life there is hope!" He +would go north the coming Monday—this was Friday—and +she hoped he would be successful. Until he returned, +she would not despair. She made preparations for his +departure, by packing his steamer trunk, washed his +handkerchiefs, purchased many little necessities from her +own purse, and placed them along with the rest of his +belongings.</p> + +<p>"Will you go to New York or Chicago?" she inquired +as they sat at dinner.</p> + +<p>"I suppose the chances are better beyond New York. +I shall, of course, go directly to New York, but from +there I will go into New England. I have credentials<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> +from several well known white people, as well as letters +from the secretary of the white Y.M.C.A. here, and at +Effingham and Attalia, so I think that part is quite +sufficiently looked after."</p> + +<p>When Reverend Wilson Jacobs had dined, he felt like +walking, and, drawing on a light overcoat and cap, he +strolled out into the chill December night. The air was +still, and the stars gleamed brightly, as he strolled down +the street in the direction of the river. When he had +gone three blocks, he decided to walk to the river, and +look out upon its water for a spell. So, increasing his +speed, he walked briskly in that direction.</p> + +<p>To reach the river by the street he was following, it +was necessary to pass through a district of the town +that had not the best reputation. It was a part of the +town, inhabited in former days by denizens of the underworld, +and was interspersed with many halls and buildings +that had been built for such purposes. Since liquor had +been voted out of the state, and the city likewise, while +the women had also been forced to scatter, due to the +enforcement of the law relative to their profession, +the neighborhood had been given over largely to bootlegging. +Places operating under the guise of soft-drink +shops, sold liquor as freely as the saloons had, when they +operated in the same places a year ago. And, in this +district, holdups and other cases of outlawry were a +common occurrence.</p> + +<p>He had arrived, and was passing leisurely through this +part of the town, when, ahead of him, a figure crossed +the street, and entered one of the dives. Something +about the swing of the arms, made him recall that he had +seen that person before. He thought it over, as he approached +the place the other had entered. He had not +reached it, when the other emerged, and made his way +up the street ahead of him, only a few yards. He studied +the character, and when he turned into another place a +few doors up, he recalled where he had seen him. It was +the man who had paused before his gate months before, +and whom he had started to follow, but who had eluded +him. He saw no reason for paying him further attention +now, and passed on to the river.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span></p> + +<p>He returned by the same street, and as he came abreast +of an open door, he overheard voices and caught a glimpse +of the man again. He halted, and leaned beside the +door in the shade of the building a moment, out of sheer +curiosity. The voices came to his ears plainly, as he +stood there.</p> + +<p>"I have reason to believe she has money," said one, +whom he surmised was that of the man he had seen.</p> + +<p>"If she has, you have spoiled your chances of getting +hold of any of it."</p> + +<p>"How do you figure that out?" said the other gruffly.</p> + +<p>"Well, what you should have done was to have communicated +with her while she was stopping up here with +that preacher and his sister, and made her come across +to keep you from putting them next. Now, 's I figure it +out, you blows in on her with your recognition game, +and frightens her out of her wits, and she flies the coup. +And then, to make matters worse, you trail her across +town to where she 'beats' it, and, instead of using a +little diplomacy, you blow in on her and frighten her +away from there. You played a deuce of a game, you +did." The tone was impatient, and, from the way the +other shifted, it was quite obvious that he was not playing +a clever one either.</p> + +<p>"Well, she was such a good looking little wench that, +to be truthful, I lost my head over her," the other laughed +a low, hard laugh, as he said this.</p> + +<p>"Lost your head, hump!" growled another. "I can't +get into my nut, how you blame nigga's get in your +ugly knots, that a gal that's got the sense you say this +gal has, is going to fall to a cheap nigga like yourself." +The voice showed that the speaker was plainly disgusted.</p> + +<p>"Aw, old shine, I've had some a's good looking a gals +as her on my string, don't fool yourself 'bout that," +the first speaker retorted.</p> + +<p>"How much sense did they have in their nuts? None! +If they had, they'd a never fooled with you."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm still trailing her. I ain' give up yet. I'm +determined I'll bring her to time, or I'll know the reason +why," the other declared, determinedly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Don't the ole cat down where she was roosting, +know where she has gone?" inquired the other now.</p> + +<p>"Don't know a thing. Swears that she don't, and I +b'lieve her. She's a little sore 'cause I blew in and scared +her away. Funny, too, 'cause that old woman's so crooked +she cain' lay straight in bed. And, say, you know Lizzie, +the good looking black gal that comes over to Dago's +place, and licks up so much booze?"</p> + +<p>"Who, Slender Liz? Sure! Why?"</p> + +<p>"That's her ma."</p> + +<p>"The dickens!"</p> + +<p>"Sure is!"</p> + +<p>"That beats the devil. I know her; but I didn't +know until this minute that Liz was her brat. And you +mean to say this little gal what you lost your head about +and chased away, was stopping with the old woman?"</p> + +<p>"That was where she slapped me blind at."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be darned. I shouldn't have thought she'd +have stayed around her very long, when she got next to +what was going on."</p> + +<p>"Well, the little wench was so frightened when she +left this preacher up here, that she didn't know where +she was going, and she got into the place hurriedly, and +then after she had got tied up there, she seemed to have +decided to stick it out until she could do better. Then, +besides, the old woman told me that she don't think the +gal knew she sold liquor, and ran a crap game every +Saturday night. Her room was so located that the +gamesters came and went without going near her room. +Then, the gal kept herself shut in like a prisoner, when +she was around, besides."</p> + +<p>"I wish you hadn't spoiled this deal. I believe we +could have dug enough dough out of her to stake us into +a game, when we're settin' 'roun' broke like we are now."</p> + +<p>"I'll get her, just be patient. I don't believe she's +left town; but I can't pull the old woman for any more +information. Besides, she ain' got over me frightening +her away, 'cause she said the gal was sure a fine roomer, +and that she is sorry now that I found her at all. These +old crooks can be won over when you come clean at that."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Bet your life they can. And when you get the friendship +of one like that, they'd go through fire for you."</p> + +<p>There was a shuffling about now, as if someone was +coming toward the door. Wilson hurried away, and +walked rapidly in the direction of home.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIX_3" id="CHAPTER_SIX_3"></a>CHAPTER SIX</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>The Black Cavalry's Charge—"Onward Boys!"</i></p> + + +<p>"Mildred, my Mildred, where are you, dear heart?" +said Wilson Jacobs, as he hurried in the direction of his +home, after he had overheard the words of the two men. +He was in a turmoil of excitement. He had reached no +decision as to what he would do, that is, as to how he +would find her; but he was determined that he would +search the city to the very doors, until he found and +brought back that girl to his home.</p> + +<p>"She is being persecuted, being hounded out of her +life, as she has been out of the place she called her home—and +by those brutes." And he trembled with anger, as +he thought of the dastardly creatures who were pursuing +her.</p> + +<p>"I could corner that brute and make him confess what +is behind this mystery; but then I have overheard him +admit that she has eluded him; therefore, that would be +useless. Until he ascertains her whereabouts, it would +be foolish even to whip the cur for his villainy." One +thing he decided on 'ere he had gone far in his reflections, +and that was to keep it from his sister. It would only +serve to upset her more, and she was worried enough +already.</p> + +<p>"My poor, dear little girl; my brave little girl; and +you must bear this burden and sorrow all alone," he +murmured in a strained voice, as he approached his +abode. "Somewhere in this city she is in fear tonight, +in fear of these dark creatures. I would give half my +life to find her this very night. Oh, that I had some clue! +She would not have me find her, but that is a matter +that I would waive aside. Her happiness, even her very +life, is in danger. And, whatever this evil may be, I will +never believe, even from her own lips, that Mildred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> +Latham is guilty of any act that would not become a +lady. Somewhere in the past, she has, in some way, +become involved, and this, in some manner, is the occasion +of the mystery; but I have faith in her above all +others." And so, with this thought, he entered the +house and his room, where he walked for hours trying to +form some plan of action.</p> + +<p>"I will find her. I <i>must</i> find her," he declared, with +compressed lips, time and again; but, as to how, no way +seemed clear. "I must leave Monday on the mission, +and I must try to find her before then. I don't care +what it is—has been, and might be in the future—I love +you, Mildred, I love you—nothing else matters. I have +faith in you; I believe in you above all others; with +your presence, under my protection, I feel I could do +the things you had faith I could do!" He almost raved +at times, during the still hours that followed.</p> + +<p>All the kind words she had said to him in the months +gone by, came back to him as he trod the floor—thinking, +thinking, thinking. "You will succeed; you will become, +'ere long, a leader of men," she had said once. "For it +is you, courageous, with the strength of your convictions, +this race needs; and it is you they will eventually find."</p> + +<p>She had said this with all the fervor of her soul. And +he had listened; he had hoped, and then he had worked. +Yes, Wilson Jacobs had worked hard to raise those few +thousands, that would revert back to the donors in four +weeks, if a preponderous sum was not raised by midnight +of December thirty-first. December thirty-first, +midnight? God, how that sounded in his ears now. +The fateful night! One minute after that hour, sixty-seven +thousand dollars, waiting from other sources than +the black people of this town, would be no longer available. +Seventy-three thousand dollars for the future +moral welfare of thousands of young men of this race +would no longer be available, unless he, Wilson Jacobs, +could raise twenty-seven thousand dollars in a day over +three weeks.</p> + +<p>That was his burden.</p> + +<p>If he, Wilson Jacobs, could raise such an amount,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> +innumerable black children yearly, and until the end of +time, oh, how long.... <i>Until the end of time</i>, would be +saved and have their chance, their great chance, to become +<i>men</i>! How much they needed it, these black youth! +Only to see any daily, <i>every</i> daily paper, would answer +this! And how much would they appreciate it? Yes, +how much would they appreciate it?... And yet, what +did that matter?... Yes, there were plenty who would +say off-hand, "They would not know how to appreciate +it; they are incapable of appreciating it." ... But that +was from those who did not think deeply—and, yes, the +majority, by far, of this race to which he belonged, did +not think deeply. But Wilson Jacobs did. He had made +it a part of his young life to think deeply, and in the +interest of those who needed him.</p> + +<p>And <i>now</i> they needed him. Oh, <i>how</i> much they needed +him, and how <i>much</i> strength he needed to raise twenty-seven +thousand dollars before midnight of December +thirty-first!</p> + +<p>"Black people <i>do</i> appreciate that which is for their +good; but, <i>be merciful, dear God</i>, they know it not. +But they <i>will</i>, and when they <i>do</i> come to know it, how +<i>much</i> life, how <i>much</i> feeling and enthusiasm they will +exert! <i>And may we not say the same of all of us!</i>"</p> + +<p>He had been a very young man when his country—yes, +<i>his</i> country—regardless of the fact that many of this +race now said, with pent up anger, "This is not <i>our</i> +country, it's the <i>white man's</i> country." How much +bitterness they put into the words, he could not soon +forget; but this <i>was his</i> country, and he proclaimed it +as such, and had enlisted and gone away to that little +island to the southeast.</p> + +<p>He was with that cavalry; that cavalry of black men. +And when thousands of aimless bullets poured upon +America's greatest cavalry (commanded by the greatest +American citizen since one immortal one, who met his +death cruelly, but for <i>this</i> country), and tumbled them +from the saddles like so many playthings, he would never +forget that battle cry, "Onward boys!" And from +another direction, they came, <i>black men</i>. Up a hill that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> +was forbidding in the abruptness of its ascent, they went. +Under the heavy fire of the enemy, they did not flinch.</p> + +<p>What they did on that memorable day in our modern +history, the world knows. And if a part of our citizens +<i>did</i> not appreciate it at this date, one did. And he +proved it in after-years. So, when he heard these poor +men of his race now bemoan their fate, crying "This is +a white man's country. We have none!" he sighed, and +felt pity in his heart for them.</p> + +<p>After the war, he had gone to Arizona, and spent one +summer there at a ranch during his vacation. And this +ranch was among the Navajo's. Dull, listless, inert +creatures they were. They did nothing to make this +country a better place in which to live, and they had +<i>never</i> done so, nor were they ever likely to. But, in +spite of that, they are the primitive inhabitants and +heroes; but not in the best sense, could anyone live +among those people three months and conscientiously +regard them as <i>men</i>. And yet they were given every +consideration, while black men were thrust aside. And +this was after three hundred years, out of which two +hundred and fifty were spent in developing that which +is called Dixie.</p> + +<p>And, in spite of these conditions, Wilson Jacobs was +the most optimistic of all men. He conscientiously +believed that this was a black man's as well as a white +man's country. Yes, he heard those others say: "This +is a white man's country!" and they said it very loudly; +but these same men were the scions of those who had +tried, at the price of all their wealth and blood, to divide +it. He never let his memory dwell upon this. Other +black men did, though. So much so, that they made +themselves unfit for this new generation. What has +been done, he always considered could never be undone. +If prejudice against his people was the custom here, +prejudice against the Jew elsewhere, was usual also. +"But it isn't right!" they would deplore. And, of +course, he could only agree that it wasn't. To hate thy +brother, is contrary to the laws of Christianity, under +which we live.... But the prejudice remained after all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> +that could be said. "It's growing worse!" they cried. +"Yes, it appears to grow worse," he also agreed. "Then, +what have you to say?" And he answered: "Nothing!" +And then asked: "And you?" "Nothing!" "Then, +what are we to do? Become examples of dull inertia by +grieving over it, or shall we struggle to become <i>men</i>, +and through the strength of our mind and bodies, make +this a better place in which to live, if only for ourselves? +For live, we must. Not since the beginning of the world +have ten million souls sunk into oblivion." The pessimist +always departed at this point.</p> + +<p>After all, Jacobs felt sorry and pitied both—the ones +who bemoaned their fate, and those who boasted. +Both were in error. For, regardless of what was said, he +loved America, his home and "<i>a man's country</i>"!</p> + +<p>So, when college had given Wilson Jacobs his degree, +he drifted about for a year among his people. He had +never thought of the ministry as a vocation. And it +was only when he had seen his people as they were—not +altogether as they <i>ought</i> to be, did he appreciate the fact +that he might be able to help them. He had learned +while at school, but more in actual life, that Jesus lived +and died as a moral example. But his people saw only +the individual.</p> + +<p>So back to school he had gone, where he studied five +long years, to fit himself for his present calling. His +success was yet to come. Mildred Latham had said <i>it +would come</i>. "Oh, Mildred! For you I would go through +eternity," he declared feverishly. But only the silent +walls answered him.</p> + +<p>After many hours, he retired. The sun was shining, +although it was December, when he heard Constance +calling him to breakfast. How much he would have +liked to have said: "Constance, Mildred is somewhere +in this town, our Mildred! She is being persecuted, +Constance, our Mildred is being persecuted—being +hounded out of the sweet life we know she lived, and +inspired in those about her!" And he knew that Constance +would say: "Go forth, my brother, and find her; +bring her back into our home, that we may love her and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> +make her our sister, for it is as such she was, and more, +these many months." That was the spirit of the Jacobs. +But he kept his peace, and ate in silence.</p> + +<p>Monday came, a cold, dreary day. Snow fell all over +the country, and Dixie land, far south, was white mantled. +Wilson Jacobs went to the depot, for he was +leaving on a great mission. Would he succeed? He +hoped so; others hoped so; and Constance hoped so, +as well as Mildred Latham.</p> + +<p>But he never knew.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVEN_3" id="CHAPTER_SEVEN_3"></a>CHAPTER SEVEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Please Stop—and Save Me!</i>"</p> + + +<p>"Breakfast is ready, my dear," said Mother Jane, for +as such she was known and called by all who knew her. +She was speaking to Mildred Latham.</p> + +<p>A moment later, Mildred came out of her room and +seated herself at the table, at the head of which sat an +old gray-headed man, and at the foot sat Mother Jane, +whose head was white also.</p> + +<p>"And did you rest well, my dear?" inquired Mother +Jane of Mildred, bestowing upon her a smile full of kindness +and tenderness.</p> + +<p>"I slept beautifully," Mildred replied as kindly, and +beamed upon the old soul with all the consideration—maybe +more—of her own child.</p> + +<p>"And you sell a book?" inquired the elder woman, +after a moment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am, I sell a book. A book by a young colored +author."</p> + +<p>"By a young colored author? I do declare!" exclaimed +the other, with enthusiasm. "It is delightful +when I know we have young men who are doing something +else besides making convicts." Mother Jane was known +for her wit.</p> + +<p>"What is the text of this story?" she inquired later.</p> + +<p>Mildred told her.</p> + +<p>"Delightful, to say the least." The elder woman had +secured some learning in her childhood, and had studied +by consistent reading, until she was well informed, and +used the most perfect English. "Went out into the great +west. To the <i>Rosebud Country</i>. Well, well. I read all +about that country when it was opened to settlers some +years ago. I wanted my son to go; but—he went elsewhere," +and she paused to swallow, while a tear shone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> +in her old eyes. Mildred spoke of other things. The +other didn't say, but quick intuition told her that son +had gone to the chain gang.</p> + +<p>She had found this place two days after the visit that +was paid her by the unwelcome guest. It was far removed +from the black woman, and she was glad of it. And +yet, when she was taking her leave, that apparently evil +creature had shed tears and begged her to stay, saying +that she would not be molested further. Mildred felt a +human pity for her, but she knew she could not have +stayed on. The longer she lived, the more she was +learning that secrets are not good things to share with +others, or for others to be in possession of, regardless of +their good will thereto. She now knew that the only +way she would have people to know these things, people +she might chance to live with, would be to tell them +before she moved into the house. To have them find +out afterwards, and from others, would be, she felt, an +infringement upon their kindness. As for the man who +had, with his persistency, driven her from two places, +she hoped he would not succeed in finding her in the +present.</p> + +<p>The following day, she went about her work with heavy +heart. She felt she must continue in the work as long as +she was in the city; and besides, she had accumulated +many orders for the holiday trade, and could, with her +efforts, secure many others. But it was not this alone +that held her in this city, it was something else.</p> + +<p>She was following the effort of Wilson Jacobs to secure +the Y.M.C.A. Each week, she carefully noted the +details in regard to the same, and had fearfully observed +that it might fail. She was aware of the time limit, +and she was worried over the lack of the twenty-seven +thousand dollars. "How can he raise such a large +sum in so short a time?" she asked herself many times +each day. And yet she still hoped he would, even when +less than four weeks were left in which to do so.</p> + +<p>She had managed, by dint of economy and hard work, +to accumulate almost two hundred dollars since she left +them, and this she would give at the right moment,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> +when she saw there was any possible chance of his succeeding. +She would have to send it anonymously; but desire +for his success was her gravest concern.</p> + +<p>Sunday came, and she stayed at home for the first +time since she came to the city. The sound of the bells +made her feel terribly sad and lonely. To have heard +Wilson Jacobs, or Reverend Castle, would have been a +privilege of which she would have been thankful to have +availed herself, but fear kept her confined to her room +all that day. She felt positive that he would visit all +the churches in search of her that day, and other Sundays. +So, with this pleasure denied her, she felt more +lonely now than she had ever felt before, since coming to +the city.</p> + +<p>She purchased a book, a new novel, the evening before; +so in this she concentrated her mind all that day. It was +an unusual story, which made it more interesting. It +seemed that, in England, where the plot lay, a postmaster +was likely to be removed through subtle influences. +To save the position for him, because of her love, his +wife, who was all to him, made a sublime sacrifice. It +came to his attention, and in doing so, the fact of her +past was also revealed. It was a terrible book, to say +the least, but between the lines was a moral that the +reader was compelled to appreciate. In the end, the +man was redeemed to her through the church—the +Baptist church.</p> + +<p>Two weeks passed without event. Her work went +along nicely, and she succeeded in delivering to almost +all of her holiday customers. It was about this time +that she became deeply concerned with regard to the +possibility of securing the Y.M.C.A. Wilson Jacobs +had not returned, nor had any word come from him, so +far as the public knew, as to whether he had met with +success. But Mildred entertained grave doubts regarding +the matter. If he were succeeding, it was her opinion, +that some word would be wired that cheer might fill the +hearts of the anxious ones waiting. She wished she +could go to Constance, and comfort her during these +anxious days. That desire became so uppermost in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> +mind and heart, that it was with difficulty she kept herself +from rushing madly to the house, and throwing herself +to the other's feet. She felt strangely guilty. She +had convicted herself in their eyes, by fleeing. It couldn't +be changed now. No, she could not go to Constance, +as much as she wanted to. And, as she looked into it +deeper, she came to realize that she could never go to +Constance again.... That was the hardest part of it. +Never to go to her again. Oh, the anguish it gave her +when this was regarded as a reality.</p> + +<p>"Constance," she prayed on her knees that night. +"Constance, will you, can you forgive me; can you +forgive Mildred? She loved you and your brother, and +it was because she was weak; because she felt that she +could never have stood to see both of you know—felt me +otherwise than as you knew me. Oh, I have suffered, +Constance; I have died a living death. Daily I long +for you; I pray in the only way I know how that he, +your brother, whom I know to be so strong, and noble +and good, may succeed in this great effort; this effort +which these others so much need. Some day, oh, Lord, +may it come to pass—though my mind cannot now see +it, I hope to feel that love again."</p> + +<p>And then it came to pass, the next day she met the +other upon the streets, He smiled upon her through his +ugly teeth, and in soothing words, offered greeting. She +passed him by, but knew, without looking back, that he +followed. She had completed her work for that day. +Many copies of <i>his</i> book she had placed in other hands, +and that night many eyes would begin an acquaintance +with those years in the west. And now, at her heels +followed her vendetta. He would follow her to Mother +Jane's? And then she trembled. She could never allow +Mother Jane to even think she was any other but "her +dear daughter." For it was such Mother Jane now +called her. Anywhere now—but there.</p> + +<p>She increased her steps, made them faster in a direction +that led to—she knew not where, nor cared; but anywhere +but to Mother Jane's. Supper would be awaiting +her there at six-thirty, as it had waited for her every day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> +these past weeks; but Mother Jane would be disappointed +this evening. Mildred Latham would not see +Mother Jane at that hour today, and maybe she, Mother +Jane, might never see "her daughter" again....</p> + +<p>On she went. Before her, over a hill, came a car. She +could not catch that one, but others would come that +way soon. Maybe by the time she arrived beside the +tracks, another might meet her. She hurried. She +never looked back. She was too frightened. But intuition +told her that he followed. She wished she knew +how far he was in the rear. Maybe if the car came +before he arrived, she could elude him. Oh, if it would! +She was trotting now. She was so near the tracks at +this time, that they glistened like steel rays in the distance. +From a direction, which was not the way the +other car had come, she heard another car. It was +approaching, and now it flashed into sight.</p> + +<p>The sun had disappeared long ago, and the stars stood +out like a million diamonds in the skies above. The +evening air was chill, and she rushed—she was running +now—past the houses. The car was almost at the +crossing. Would she make it? She cried out and waved +her hand frantically. It was going to pass her, although +she had arrived at the crossing, and regarded it with eyes +that were frantic—wild! "Please stop, Mr. Motorman!" +she cried piteously.</p> + +<p>"Please stop—and save me." It tore by her, the +front end. In the rear, she heard the crunch of feet +upon the gravel street. She saw the side of the car. It +dazzled her. She was lost. She could almost feel the +presence of the other. One terrible moment she swayed, +and the next, the rear end of the car was before her. +Welcome did the inside seem. She <i>must</i> catch that car, +she felt—<i>or die</i>. A brass rail touched her hand. Like +electricity, it closed over it. She was raised and then +felt her body speeding through space. A cry from the +inside and a "ting," then a shutting of brakes, and the +car came to a stop.</p> + +<p>"My God," the conductor was saying, "why did she +grab that rail? This is the only line left with cars with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> +the open entry. None of the others can be caught without +the consent of the conductor." She looked about +her. She sat in the rear of the car that was now speeding +into the business section. About her were many anxious +faces.</p> + +<p>"Why, oh, why," their eyes and lips spoke, as soon as +they saw her, "did you take that terrible risk?" But +she did not see their eyes, or hear their words—for her +eyes were looking for another. He was not there.</p> + +<p>And they never knew.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHT_3" id="CHAPTER_EIGHT_3"></a>CHAPTER EIGHT</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>What Her Eyes Saw</i></p> + + +<p>"Our daughter is late tonight, Gabriel," said Mother +Jane, coming from the door, where she had been many +times. "It is now almost seven, and she has not yet +arrived. I am uneasy. But I will be patient. Maybe +she had to wait on some of her customers. It is so near +the holidays, that some may have been downtown buying +presents for their friends, and she is compelled to wait. +Of course, she has never been late before, which doesn't +mean that she might not be late today—but, oh well, +I'll wait."</p> + +<p>Gabriel, her old husband, played with his fork and +said nothing. He never said anything. He had not said +anything since '65. The rebels at Fort Pillar stopped +him from saying anything further, for since then he had +been speechless.</p> + +<p>"We will have a big Christmas this year, Gabriel," +said she. "Mildred's being with us will make a difference." +She was silent now, listening to the fire that +cracked in the grate. Presently her eyes sought a place +at the table. It was the place Mildred occupied, but she +was thinking of another. This other had been all to her, +for he was her son. Tears came to her eyes now, as she +thought of the years gone by, and the times she had +fixed that place for him. Yes, she had fixed the plate +there for him a thousand times. But he did not—had +not eaten from it for many a meal now. No, he ate +<i>elsewhere</i>. As she looked at the place today, strangely +she felt he would never eat there again. And he was +her only child. If he failed to carry the name beyond +his present circumstances, then the name of Gabriel +Ware ended with her mute husband, who sat waiting +patiently.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It will be so nice, Gabriel, to have her with us this +Christmas. And she stays right at home and reads to +us both every night. She is a sweet child, is Mildred. +She has been our own daughter since she came here. +It has been a treat for me, because I love so much to +read; while you have liked since '65 to hear me; but +my old eyes cannot follow the lines with the accuracy +they used to. No, the lines run together so often now, +and when they become clear again, it is so hard and tiresome +to find the place. But since she came, with her +young eyes, her cheerful smiles, her endless patience +with old people, who at the best are hard to get along +with, I appreciate that things have been so different."</p> + +<p>Gabriel nodded. They lived easily, these two. This +may be a "white man's country," but our "Uncle" +took care of Gabriel and Mother Jane comfortably. +These many years, he gave to them many dollars at the +end of every quarter, and he had increased this, until +now Gabriel received ninety dollars four times a year.</p> + +<p>A step sounded upon the porch. "There she is, God +bless her," said Mother Jane, and flew to the door, +opening it wide, and then, alas! No Mildred stood on +the threshold—but a man.</p> + +<p>His teeth shown, and his hat in hand, he stood with +a bow, and inquired if Miss Mildred Latham was within.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>On the main street of the town, where all cars find +their way, Mildred alighted, and, crossing the street, +she waited for the car that would take her to the suburbs +which was near where Mother Jane lived.</p> + +<p>When Gabriel and she had built and settled, it was far +from the town, and they had not dreamed, that some +day before they died, that their ten acres would be surrounded. +But the city grew, and they had sold the ten +acres long since, in lots for big prices. They had money, +she now knew, a part of which they had received for the +lots, and they owned other houses. But a part of what +they had was gone. It had been invested in a shoe +store, incorporated and conducted by colored people. +They knew not how colored people act in such capacity,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span> +so, in due time, they failed; therefore, going the way of +thousands of such attempts in Dixie. For, you see, +these black people had not known how to conduct such +a business. They only knew how to wear shoes, when +they were fitted by the other race.</p> + +<p>"Now for home," Mildred sighed, as she settled back +and listened to the hum of the car, as it sped on its +way. "Oh, how glad I am that I eluded him," she +breathed happily. "I'll be late, which I dislike; but +it's better late than never. Blessed old dears," she +added, impulsively. And then fell to planning for the +Christmas day. It was so near now, that she would +have to hurry in her few plans. Months ago, she had +hoped she was going to spend a real, genuine, merry +Christmas with her friends, the Jacobs; but now, long +since, of course, she had given that up. But she was +glad that she had found this new place, and had been +there long enough to be so high in their favor, as to be +the star guest for their holiday.</p> + +<p>They were industrious, and raised almost all they ate +in a garden of a half acre in the rear. And chickens! +Mother Jane had raised two hundred fifty. So they +had this meat almost every day. For supper they would +have some surely, so, soon she would eat, and then the +two would prepare for the coming event. She was impatient +to be there.</p> + +<p>It was freezing outside. Ice could be seen from +the car window, gathering wherever there was water. +A nice hot fire they would have, she knew; while she +had a good new book that was half read through. After +all was done, she would read to them, and so all three +would be made happy.</p> + +<p>She fell to thinking, to thinking of others, and Sidney +Wyeth came to her mind. Last Christmas she had +received two nice books from him. He wrote no letter, +nor did he autograph the same—he didn't even let her +know by word or letter that they were from him, but +she knew.</p> + +<p>Where was he—where had he been since? She wished +she knew, for if she did, as she thought now, she would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span> +send him a nice book for a Christmas present. But he +would never know it was from her. Her pleasure would +be in the giving. That was why presents were given. +For the pleasure of giving a token of remembrance. +Some people did not consider it that way, but then they +were not Christians. She wondered, as the car sped +along, how many people who belonged to church did not +know they were not Christians.</p> + +<p>"I wish I knew where he is," she said again, this time +half aloud. "Somehow I believe he would—forget—for +a day." And then she thought of Wilson Jacobs, and in +doing so, recalled that, in the months gone by, she had +seen him at the end of a talk, and was forced to look +away. She could not stand the pain in his eyes. Did +he care for her? She wouldn't trust herself to believe it. +It wouldn't be right. No. She was glad now that it +had gone no further. It wasn't right that he should be +allowed to do that, and then learn the truth. Oh, the +truth! That was <i>her</i> burden. The other had learned +the truth, and then he went away. He would never +return. No. And Wilson Jacobs would do likewise. +She had struggled these months to keep it from him. +If he learned from other lips, it would be as sad; but +she would at least not have to face him, and see another +suffering in his eyes. With Sidney Wyeth, it now seemed +different. As she had grown to feel, she believed she +could meet him. She felt now that if she could find his +whereabouts, she would go to him. Yes. She would go +to him and see him, and let him see her. Oh, as much +as she loved him—for her love had never died—she +believed now she could look in his eyes and ask him to +forget. She suddenly made up her mind to leave and +seek him. "But I can't," she moaned. "I can never +leave here until I know the worst in regard to the Y.M.C.A. +No. I would never be happy to leave them to +their fate until I know the best—or the worst." Somewhere +in the great north, Wilson Jacobs had either by +now, succeeded or failed. Which? Until she knew, she +couldn't bring herself to leave.</p> + +<p>By this time, she had arrived at the getting off place.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> +She sprang lightly from the car, and walked briskly to +where a light shone, for one always shone from Mother +Jane's window. And it was this light which guided her +now. She skipped lightly along, humming a little song +as she did so. Again was she at peace with the world, +and forgave all who sinned against her. She had no +malice in her heart against anyone, as she approached +the house—the house of the Wares'—where already the +smell of nourishment was in the air.</p> + +<p>"Oh, how delightful it is to have a home. A place +where someone with love in their hearts awaits you, and, +when the door is opened, gathers you in welcome." She +thanked Him that is Holy, for being so kind to her.</p> + +<p>She had arrived at last, and with a delightful sigh, +raised her foot to the step, and as she did so, her eyes +glanced through the window. The next moment she +fell back, and placed her hand upon her breast, while +her heart thumped violently within.</p> + +<p>Then she turned, and disappeared into the night, +while those inside waited.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_NINE_3" id="CHAPTER_NINE_3"></a>CHAPTER NINE</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Wha's Y' Man?</i>"</p> + + +<p>On she flew. Across the car tracks she stumbled, but +she didn't stop, nor did she look to see whether anyone +was coming or not. She thought of nothing, but to be +away, away, away! Down the street that was dark and +rough, and led to where she did not know, nor did she +even care. She was going away, away from everybody. +She would hide herself from the world. She could go to +another city, but there was no use in that either. She +cried half aloud as she hurried along: "I can stand it +no longer, I can stand it no longer! I want to die, oh, +I want to die!"</p> + +<p>"I know," she choked at last, as she stumbled down +the middle of a dark alley, in which she now found herself. +"I know," she cried again. And she hurried on, +as soon as she had caught her breath. "It is the river. +Yes, the river." She quickened her pace as she came +into a street that was at the end of the alley. It was +wider. She hastened down a hill that seemed to her a +mile long, and maybe it was more. But when she had +hurried two blocks along this, she left the middle of the +street and took to the sidewalk, and slowed to a walk. +"I can't go on like this. It will excite people. I must +walk, but I must hurry, hurry, hurry!"</p> + +<p>She had covered many blocks, when she came abreast +of buildings occupied by colored people. There was a +barber shop where men were being shaved, and a restaurant +where others were eating; a soda fountain also, +and she wondered whether the people who conducted it +made any money this time of the year.</p> + +<p>The night seemed to have grown much colder, from +the frost that was on the windows, but Mildred Latham +did not feel it. Her face, she felt it for a moment, was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span> +flushed. And then it occurred to her that her throat +was dry. Oh, yes. She knew why, now. She had cried +all the way from Mother Jane's to here—wherever it was. +And her face was hot, her throat was dry, and she wanted +water. She must have water, or she could no longer +swallow. For a moment she hesitated before the soda +fountain. Then she opened the door and entered. A +man who sat in the rear approached. He was a neat +man, with a heavy mustache. He invited her to a chair +at a table that was near a glowing fire. She took it. +He waited her order politely.</p> + +<p>"I would like some—a-soda water, if you please," she +said hesitatingly. He looked at her a moment keenly, +winked his right eye, and then his left—then his right +eye again, twice. She looked at him without understanding. +He repeated it. She wondered what he +meant. Presently he moved behind the counter, and +returned with her order.</p> + +<p>While she drank it, another, a woman came in. Mildred +watched him incidentally. He repeated the winking +process, while she glanced at the other, who repeated it. +He went now to a room in the rear, and when he returned, +he handed her something in a package. The woman +gave him a half dollar, and waited for no change.</p> + +<p>"You're a stranger about here, Miss?" he said, +observing her a bit dubiously.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," she replied, "I am a stranger about here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see," he said, now gazing at her very keenly +a few moments. "You're one of the solicitors for the +Y.M.C.A., I suppose," said he, after a moment's thought.</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I am not," she replied with a start, and +wondered why he asked her.</p> + +<p>"They was a-planning t' have a meeting overhead +here t'night, was why I asked," he said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that so," she commented, and then added: +"I am not connected with it in any way, but I am very +much interested in it."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's too bad," he said thoughtfully, "but I +don't think we will ever get such a thing in this town. +It's going to be a failure, so I hear."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Indeed," she echoed, "how so?"</p> + +<p>"Well, unless they get twenty-seven thousand dollars +together in a week, it's sure to be. And 'f anybody c'n +raise that many dollars, 's hard's times is now, I'd lak +t' see them," he smiled grimly.</p> + +<p>She wanted to ask him about Wilson, but hesitated. +Had he returned? He was speaking again:</p> + +<p>"They ain't had no word frum the secretary since he +left. He went north some time ago, and it was hoped +that he might succeed in raising the amount among the +wealthy northern people. But it's dollars t' doughnuts +that he don't. 'Cause I figure it's lak this: 'f he'd a-had +any success up there, some word-a come back by now +frum 'im."</p> + +<p>So no word had yet come from Wilson Jacobs, and as +she thought of his possible failure, all thought of herself +and what had been in her mind a moment ago, left her. +When she left the place she was calm. But where to +go now was another problem. To go back to Mother +Jane, never entered her mind. She wandered about for +an hour. She now recognized the locality. She was on +the same street she had found upon her arrival in the +city—Beal street. She walked up this for two blocks, +and where many Negroes were assembled. Several +picture shows greeted her, but she had no inclination for +such amusement.</p> + +<p>Presently she turned into another street that led down +to the river. It was narrow and poorly lighted, and +the people, what few she saw, were ragged and dirty, +and forbidding. She walked some distance on this, +until she came across another that led in another direction. +Into this she turned aimlessly.</p> + +<p>She had gone about three-quarters of a block, when +her eyes, in glancing up, caught sight of a house, dark +and weather beaten, with a glimmering light on the +front, under which was written:</p> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">Lodging For Men or Women<br /> +rates right</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>She paused. Her hand touched her forehead; it was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> +hot and throbbing. She felt tired, and her eyes were +heavy with sleep. She hesitated, turned into the gate, +and approached the door timidly. It was a forbidding +place, she saw as she came nearer. The door hung +weakly upon its hinges, while light came through the +many cracks. She shuddered. How different it was +from Mother Jane's, where everything was spick and +span, clean and well kept. Oh, if she could be home +now with Mother Jane! She wrapped lightly upon the +door, and it seemed a long time before someone shuffled +in that direction.</p> + +<p>Presently, after a turning of bolts, or it seemed more +like someone was drawing a peg out of a staple, with a +squeak, the door opened about a foot. In the dim light, +the face of an old woman looked out from a very wrinkled +face.</p> + +<p>"What d' ya want?" she asked gruffly.</p> + +<p>"I see you have a sign up here," and she pointed +upward, "that says rooms," she replied, timidly.</p> + +<p>"Yeh. Is yu 'lone. Wha's yu man?"</p> + +<p>Mildred shuddered, and then she recovered. She was +tired and wanted to sleep. Tomorrow she would try to +do better. She replied as politely as she could; "I am +alone. I have no <i>man</i>."</p> + +<p>"Hunh!" grunted the other, opening the squeaking +door wide as she said: "Come in!"</p> + +<p>Mildred entered and stood looking about her, while +the old witch regarded her suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"So you're alone, uh? Got no man. Hunh! That's +funny." She hobbled to where a lamp set, with chimney +smoked, and upon which a crack had been patched with +paper. "There's a chair. Sit down, gal." She shuffled +about, and when the light was better, by turning it up +a bit higher, she came near where Mildred sat, and +took a seat in an old rocker which had a sack filled with +straw, to make it more comfortable.</p> + +<p>"How much do you charge for your rooms?" Mildred +inquired.</p> + +<p>"Two bits when you're alone. Thirty-five cents if yu +got a man." Mildred had surmised that would be the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> +charge, and had the amount ready. She didn't care to +have this witch see that she had money. She handed +her the quarter. The old creature took it, held it to +the light, and examined it a moment before she dropped +it into an old pocket.</p> + +<p>"Wantta go t' bed now?" the other inquired, a little +kinder than she had spoken before.</p> + +<p>"I feel sleepy," said Mildred, and looked it.</p> + +<p>"All right," said the other, rising with much difficulty. +"Ah, gal, that's rheumatiz. Bad. When you gits lak +dis, life don't hold much fo' you."</p> + +<p>Mildred tried to look sympathetic as she followed her, +and murmured something inaudible.</p> + +<p>They had entered a room now that corresponded with +the remainder of the house, except that the ceiling +seemed to be lower, and the room was a bit cleaner. +A small fireplace was in one side of the wall, and the +bed stood in an opposite corner. Two chairs, a table, +a bureau, a wash stand and a pitcher with a clean towel +spread over it, made up the meagre furnishings. A rag +carpet covered the floor.</p> + +<p>"I don't fu'nish fiah," said the other, when she saw +Mildred's eyes rest for a moment upon the fireplace. +If there were a fire, she now felt she would rest better.</p> + +<p>"I should like to purchase some fuel of you to make +a fire, if it is possible," she said.</p> + +<p>"I'll sell you a nickel's wo'th."</p> + +<p>"Very well. Bring it in." When the other was gone, +she took fifty cents in change from her purse. She +displayed this that the other might see and feel that +she possessed little. A few minutes later, she was alone +with a fire cracking in the grate, that soon made the +room quite comfortable.</p> + +<p>She retired when the room had become warm. The +heat, in contrast with the air she had just come out of, +made her yawn. So, after barring the door securely, +she retired, and was soon fast asleep.</p> + +<p>She might have slept for an hour, or it may have +been only a minute, but she was slowly awakened by a +stream of light that poured in through the window. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> +sat up suddenly, and blinked as the rays fell across her +face, and saw that she had forgotten to draw the blind +and that the moonlight was streaming into her room.</p> + +<p>But it was not that alone which had awakened her. +There was some commotion in the street, or rather, in +the house next door. A wagon stood at the front, and +into it, policemen were pushing men and women. The +wagon was a police patrol, and they were making a raid. +In a few minutes it was all over, and, dropping back, +she was soon asleep again.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TEN_3" id="CHAPTER_TEN_3"></a>CHAPTER TEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Kick Higher Dare, Gal!</i>"</p> + + +<p>Christmas day had come and the whole country was +gay and festive. In the city of our story, the sun shone +beautifully, and from the way the birds sang, it was +hard to believe it was late December. The streets, at +an early hour, were filled with pedestrians seeking the +open air, freedom and merriment. Fire crackers filled +the air with noise; while the discharge of blank cartridges +and an occasional gunshot, as well as a cannon now and +then, added to the confusion. The sharp noises made +many people start suddenly, and then smile when they +recalled that it was Xmas day; the day when Jesus, +our Saviour, came into the world, and began a Christian +civilization.</p> + +<p>But there was one person who was neither gay, merry, +nor festive; although she had cherished hopes, dreams, +and desires for that day.</p> + +<p>Mildred Latham lurked in the confines of the room +she had taken, seeing the world—a small part of it—from +the window of the room she had taken a night or two +before. She had remained in it ever since, venturing +out only to get something to eat and drink. She was +almost oblivious to the fact, that it was Xmas day, +until the discharge of firearms and crackers came to her +ears from the street. And then she awakened to the +reality of what she would lose that day.</p> + +<p>A Chinaman ran the restaurant where she bought her +meals. At one of their stores, she had purchased a few +dishes and a knife, spoon and a fork, so she brought the +meals to her room, and ate the same at the table. She +had no plans now for Xmas day. She tried to forget it, +but the noise from the street did not permit her to do +so. As the sun rose higher, the revelry became more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> +pronounced. She tried to forget the day Mother Jane +and she had planned to spend together. She tried to +shut out of her mind the day she might have spent with +the Jacobs. And she tried, likewise, not to see the +dreary day she must now perforce spend—alone.</p> + +<p>The sun rose higher and higher, and the day became +warmer. So warm about noon, that she raised her +window and permitted the soft breeze to float in upon +her, filling her lungs with it, and sighing contentedly. +She watched the few people that passed that way, and +noted that they all appeared so happy. They were all +apparently carefree and desirous of getting all the +enjoyment that the day afforded. Presently it occurred +to her to venture forth and get something. It was bad +enough that she must spend it alone; but to hover in +the four walls of that little room, was a fact she could +no longer submit to.</p> + +<p>She passed into the room that may have been called +a sitting room, and where the old woman was stewing +some meat on the rusty stove. Before the other turned +at the sound of her footfall, she scrutinized her for a +moment, meditatively. She wondered who this old +woman was, who lived thus alone. She fancied what her +life must be; she had other roomers, she had observed; +but they came in late and left early, so she had no idea +who they were, or what kind of people stayed there. +She hesitated for a second, and then the other turned and +faced her.</p> + +<p>"Uh, gal," she creaked in her shaky old voice, "be +goin' out t' see a li'l' Xmas, ha, ha! Sho' you might. +Cain' stay shut up in that room all time!" And she +grinned, which made her features repulsive to Mildred.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am, I thought I would step out and look +around a while," she answered kindly. "I shall be +back presently."</p> + +<p>As she went toward the gate, the hag looked after her +and shook her head, as she muttered: "That gal's a +puzzle, a devilish puzzle. I cain' make her out; but of +one thing I'm certain, she's straight. Huh! Yes, she's +straight," and she continued shaking her head.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span></p> + +<p>And it was that fact that made her a mystery to this +old woman.</p> + +<p>She walked along slowly when she got into the +street, looking from one side to the other. At the end +of the street, in the direction she had taken, was the +warehouse district. In the old days, this had been a +prominent shipping point by water; but now this had +been largely substituted by railroads. The yards were +quiet today, as she made her way along, while scarcely a +wagon was in evidence around the many large buildings.</p> + +<p>She walked in the same direction until she came to a +street that led down to the river. She turned into this, +and followed it until she stood on the banks of the stream +that flowed gently southward. It was filled with a +number of boats, while ferries plied back and forth to +the other side. For a half hour she stood thus, with her +mind free of all care, and enjoyed the stiff air that came +with the breeze from the river. When she presently +turned to go, she felt strangely invigorated, and decided +to walk about more.</p> + +<p>Without regard to direction, she finally found herself +on Beal street, which she recognized at once. She paused +briefly before venturing into it, but the street was filled +with music; while across the way, several electric shows +invited the crowds that poured in and out. So she went +forward timidly. She stopped at length before a black +boy who was turning a street piano. The music was +exhilarating, and she gave him a nickel when he was +starting away, whereupon he dropped the handles and +played her three of the popular airs. She gave him +another nickel, and he took delight in turning on three +more. By this time a crowd had gathered, and, thinking +quickly, she slipped away and continued her way.</p> + +<p>She stood before a large picture show for colored people +a few minutes later. At the front were gorgeous pictures, +advertising the show within. She hesitated briefly, and +then, fishing a five cent piece from her purse, she entered +the show, and took a seat to one side. In a minute her +attention was centered on the screen, where a western +play in which red Indians and cowboys were in a mimic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> +battle was being shown. The play aroused much interest +in the audience, which fairly raised from the seats at +times, especially when there was a gun play; and since +gun playing seemed to be in evidence, much excitement +was attendant during the whole time the reel was being +run.</p> + +<p>She recalled suddenly, what she had read in the book +of Sidney Wyeth, with regard to Indians. He had dwelt +at some length upon this subject, and had concluded a +chapter with words to the effect that the Indian, as he +was today, and had been for years, was in no wise what +he was pictured upon the screen, or in novels, but a shiftless +being, without spirit. In truth, only an example of +dull inertia.</p> + +<p>The next reel was much more original, she thought, +and, therefore, more interesting—to her; but it wasn't +to many of those about her, who, as she heard them, +made little effort to catch the moral of it.</p> + +<p>It was a play of present day life, in which the hero +was a man employed as floor walker in a large department +store, while the heroine was a girl, employed in the +most insignificant position in the basement of the same. +She studied the play, and was carried away with the great +human interest conveyed in the plot. It was a difficult +task to keep her mind and thoughts upon it, however, +because all about her, many remarks came from impatient +creatures, who continually muttered aloud, +demanding that it be hurried off, and something with +"ginger" put on.</p> + +<p>"Hu'y, hu'y, 'n' git hit off! Git a gal out the' 'n' +some song 'n' dancin'," said one who sat next to her, +and who, she observed, was ragged and dirty in the +bargain; his long, kinky hair stood erect on his head, +and made him resemble something recently departed +from the jungle.</p> + +<p>When the vaudeville in connection therewith was put +on, she was filled with disgust. It was not refined vaudeville, +and in no way corresponded with the pictures that +had preceeded it; but of the most vulgar sort. It brought +shrill cries from the throats of those about her, and +remarks that showed the character of the crowd.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Put the sof' pedal on it, kid, ke-ha!"</p> + +<p>"Dat gal sho kin' sing, nigga, believe muh!"</p> + +<p>"Kick higher, dare, gal! You ain' done nothin'," +growled one, who was not satisfied.</p> + +<p>Mildred arose to go out. To get to the aisle, she must +pass about ten people, mostly men in rough clothing. +"Set down, gal, don' git in front-a me!" one next to her +complained.</p> + +<p>"Don' spile my gaze when dat gal's showing up lak +she is," said another. With a sigh and a disgusted feeling, +she sank back and made herself patient, until the +disgusting performance was at an end. She had no +trouble then, for all those between her and the aisle +filed out ahead of her. Apparently they came to the +show for the purpose of witnessing the vaudeville only.</p> + +<p>When she was on the street again, the sun was getting +toward the west, but she did not feel like going back to +the hovel she called a room yet. The noise and music +seemed to make her forget her troubles and worries, and, +mingling with the masses that now filled the sidewalks, +she followed them aimlessly along the street. She +stopped before other shows, and, when, at last, finding +one that appeared to have no vaudeville in connection +with the pictures, and which did not appear to have +such a big crowd about the entrance, she entered and +took a seat toward the rear.</p> + +<p>She had been seated about half an hour, when she +chanced, upon looking back, to see someone whose face +was familiar. She looked toward the front, and then, +after a few minutes, in which she tried to recall where +it was she had seen it before, she turned her head slowly, +and looked again. Behind her, and just seating themselves, +were not only three women belonging to Wilson +Jacobs' church, and with whom she was well acquainted—they +had been her best friends, and had admired her +playing and singing—but in their midst, sat Constance +herself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ELEVEN_3" id="CHAPTER_ELEVEN_3"></a>CHAPTER ELEVEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>My Wife—Sick—HELL!</i>"</p> + + +<p>It was the day before New Years, and the city was in the +grip of a severe blizzard that has swept down from the +northwest, and had driven the people from the streets and +into their homes, where they stayed closely shut in. +From her little room, Mildred Latham peeped out +through the small window, and was glad it was an ugly +day without; for, being so, she did not feel as lonesome, +and so desirous of going forth, as she had the few days +previous; or, since Xmas day.</p> + +<p>She would never forget the moments she went through, +wondering how she would extricate herself, when her +friends entered the show and seated themselves behind +her.</p> + +<p>She had sat with her heart beating a tattoo against +her ribs, and hardly dared to breathe. The play was a +deep one that flashed upon the screen, but her attention +had wandered. She was trying, with all her senses, to +think of some way out, and the way would have to +come quickly, for if not, at the best, it would be only a +question of minutes, possibly seconds, before one of the +trio saw and recognized her. She was almost choking +when there was a noise in the rear. All eyes turned +quickly, and then there was a snapping of films, or +something; but, whatever it was, the place was dark in +a moment.</p> + +<p>Now was her chance, she thought, as the theater was +suddenly plunged into darkness. She arose. Could she +make it? In a flash the lights might be on. "Great +God!" she trembled. "Suppose they should be turned +on!" And with this fear gripping her heart until the +perspiration started, she struggled toward the door. +She stepped on many toes, while growls and complaints<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span> +came from the lips of the owners, but she felt her way +resolutely forward and toward the aisle. It seemed like +an age before her feet found it. Through the place now, +matches were flashing. She glanced for a brief second in +the direction of those from whom she was fleeing, and, +as she did so, someone struck a match. In that moment, +the faces of the four came full into view. "Oh, my God!" +she cried inaudibly, "they are looking straight at me." +But before the flare had died, she breathed a sigh of +relief, for, at that moment the lights came on, and they +were looking toward the screen.</p> + +<p>She passed quietly out, and, when once outside, hurried +in the direction of her room.</p> + +<p>They had not seen her.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The day was fading into twilight. The sun had set, +and with it the wind had fallen; the air had become +still, and the stars shone brightly from above.</p> + +<p>"If I don't get out of this place for an hour, I will +surely die," cried Mildred, walking the floor in a fit of +impatience. Having become accustomed to plenty of +exercise, the days that had come and gone since Xmas +day had seemed like an eternity. Perhaps it was hard +for her, because she had not been further than the restaurant +since that day. She admitted to herself that she +was afraid to go anywhere now. She had not the courage +to run the risk of being seen again, and had, therefore, +remained confined to her room.</p> + +<p>She paused before the window, and looked long and +earnestly into the street. Never before had anything +seemed so inviting. She was simply mad to be in it, if +for only a half hour; but to be in it, she felt she must. +After a time, she resolved to run the risk. She fixed +herself as best she could, and shuddered when she realized +that she had not changed her clothes for a week. At +last, with a suppression of her excited nerves, she slipped +out of the house, and entered the street just as darkness +had set in, and the stars were the brightest.</p> + +<p>She hurried along, and when she had arrived at the +end of the street, she turned into another, and in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span> +direction she had not been before. Along this she hurried, +feeling the sting of the air, which brought the blood +to her cheeks, and made her feel real life, after many +days of fear and worry. She had been downtown one +day before Xmas, where she dispatched a telegram, and +now, as she hurried along, it occurred to her to go to the +office again. She walked boldly in that direction, and +a moment after she had entered, she came out with a +satisfied smile playing about the corners of her mouth.</p> + +<p>"Now," she whispered softly, "where shall I go?" +Without answering her own question, she began walking. +She walked until she had exercised her limbs, and they +were tired. So she felt like sitting down and resting. +Still she continued the way she was going until, in turning +a corner, she ran fully into someone and fell back +with: "I beg your pardon!" And then suddenly the +other fell back.</p> + +<p>"Why, Miss Latham!" the other exclaimed, amazed.</p> + +<p>"Miss Jones, I declare!" echoed the other, and stood +abashed.</p> + +<p>"I have not seen or heard of you for months. Indeed, +I thought you left town long since!"</p> + +<p>"No-o," Mildred mumbled, frightened and embarrassed, +all in one.</p> + +<p>"And—what—what are you doing—in <i>this</i> part of +town!" the other exclaimed, now regarding her suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"<i>This</i> part of town?" she echoed bewilderingly. +"I—I—don't understand. <i>Why</i> this part of town?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>this</i> part of town." She paused a moment and +surveyed Mildred in wonder, and then went on: "Why, +didn't you know? <i>This</i> part of town—is the <i>restricted +district</i>!"</p> + +<p>"Oh—Miss Jones!" she wailed. "Heaven help me! +I didn't know!"</p> + +<p>The other looked at her keenly and a little dubious, +and then she said, with a toss of her head, as something +seemed to have occurred to her when the other looked at +her strangely:</p> + +<p>"I guess you wonder <i>what I</i> am doing down here, too."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span></p> + +<p>The other started, and her lips opened to say she had +not, but before she could say anything, the other continued:</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't mind admitting what <i>I</i> am doing down +here, since I see <i>you</i> here, also; but I have been coming +down here for a long time. Yes, you see this is not +the first time. I have been down here before," and she +laughed a hard laugh, as she ended with another toss +of her head.</p> + +<p>Mildred stood frozen. She could not collect her +shattered wits to say anything, but she was thinking. +Miss Jones was a member of Wilson Jacobs' church and +sang in the choir. "It can't be possible!" she murmured +inaudibly. "It can't be possible!" And then, +all of a sudden, she felt sorry for Miss Jones, because she +had liked her, and thought her very sweet. And now +she met her face to face <i>in the worst</i> part of the city! +How could this be explained! Miss Jones being encountered +in the <i>worst part</i> of the city!... And Miss +Jones had, with her own lips, admitted that 'she had +been there before. <i>She had been coming there for a long +time.</i>' "Oh, God," Mildred cried almost aloud: "This is +terrible!" <i>Why</i> did Miss Jones come to this part of +town?... Miss Jones came to this part of town and +<i>knew</i> she was doing so.... Then, if that were true—which +it surely was—Miss Jones was <i>a bad girl</i>.... Miss Jones +a <i>bad girl</i>? She could not believe it; and yet, before +she could get all this through her whirling brain, she +heard Miss Jones speaking again. What was she saying? +It couldn't be true! Surely Miss Jones could not mean +what she was saying. Oh, horrors! If Miss Jones +meant what she was saying, then, Miss Jones regarded +her as a <i>bad girl</i>, too. "Miss Jones, Miss Jones!" Something +in her now was crying, although her lips moved not. +"Please don't, please don't! I am not that way. +I am not a <i>bad girl</i>, oh, no, please, <i>please</i>!" And still +her lips had not moved. She stood like a dumb person; +but she heard Miss Jones clearly:</p> + +<p>"Let's go over here to a place <i>I know</i>," she said. "It's +safe—nobody but a swell bunch goes there, no tramps +or <i>talkers</i>."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span></p> + +<p>She felt all she had heard a moment before now running +through her mind, and yet she did not speak. Miss +Jones was speaking again:</p> + +<p>"We are both in the same boat; one's as <i>bad</i> as the +other. No questions asked...."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Jones," Mildred heard again, but her lips +still were not moved. "How can you, oh, how can you!" +Why <i>didn't</i> she do something? She heard herself, but +words were not spoken: "Why <i>do</i> you stand, Mildred +Latham? Why do you not go—<i>hurry</i>? You have stood +<i>too</i> long now. Hurry, hurry! To Mother Jane's—to +Jacobs! Yes, to anywhere; but go, go, go!" And still +she stood in flesh, and made no reply.</p> + +<p>"A swell bunch from the north, railroad fellows with +plenty of coin. Some good time, kid. Come on at once. +Let's don't stand here and be looked at."</p> + +<p>She was in a trance now. She couldn't stand there; +she was aware of that. That would be worse. How to +get out, she did not know, for she had now forgotten +how she came in. But she had no notion of following +Miss Jones. No. She would go to Mother Jane's—no, +she would go to Jacobs. Jacobs? <i>Who</i> were they? Oh, +yes. She remembered now. And when she knew the +Jacobs, she had known them for <i>the truth</i>. If she went +to them and told them she had just came from the——oh, +no, no, no! She couldn't go to Jacobs.... But now +she had it. She would go to Sidney Wyeth.... Yes, +that was where she would go. He would welcome her. +He would be good to her; while she—she—<i>would tell +him everything</i>—yes, <i>everything</i>. Oh, she was glad she +had thought of him in time. Because if she had waited +a little longer, she <i>might not be fit</i> to go to him.</p> + +<p>They were going now, Miss Jones and she. Miss +Jones was going, where? She didn't know, but she, +Mildred Latham was going to her lover, Sidney Wyeth. +Oh, how she loved him—she had always loved him; +but now she loved him more than ever. And she was +going to him, and when she arrived, the first thing she +would do, would be to get on her knees, as she did when +a little girl, at her prayers. She would tell him all. All<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> +the truth from the time she was old enough to remember, +until today. Yes, she would tell <i>him all</i>. She +would show him how faithfully she had worked in the +sale of his book. And she would tell him how she had +been driven from place to place, until she had no home +nor friends; but, withal, she had remained clean. <i>Clean?</i> +Yes, that was why she had struggled so. She had fought +<i>everything</i>, to keep clean.... And he, oh, he—would be +happy. Oh, he would be <i>so</i> happy. And then they +would both—yes, <i>both</i> go to the <i>Rosebud Country</i> together. +Wouldn't that be delightful? They would go +to the <i>Rosebud Country</i> together and live happily.</p> + +<p>"Here we are," she heard Miss Jones saying. She +rapped on the door in a peculiar fashion. Presently the +door opened, but no one stood beside it or behind it. +It had opened from the top of a stair, which they mounted +the moment they entered. This led to somewhere, but +she followed.</p> + +<p>Now they were at the top, and paused for a brief +moment; then, turning to the right, they crossed a +hallway and entered a room. The door closed behind +them, and it was some time before her eyes became +accustomed to the darkness within. <i>Why</i> was the room +dark? She wondered; but just then it became a blaze +of light. She looked all around her bewilderingly. It +was a beautifully furnished room, with a soft, heavy +carpet, while about the room were many heavy chairs. +In the center was a table, and around the side were smaller +tables. "What was this place?" she asked herself, +feeling the back of one of the heavy chairs. To one side +of the room was a huge buffet with a number of glasses, +all thin and of many varying sizes, artistically arranged. +On the other end was a piano, with an electric cord +reaching it from above. And as she stood looking at it, +a light within it flashed, and it began to play a song +that made the room resound.</p> + +<p>"Hark! What was that!" she cried, with her lips +closed. She saw the eyes of her companion, as her ears +listened to the music. A smile, a wild smile danced in +the eyes of Miss Jones. She caught Mildred suddenly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span> +about the waist, and before she was aware of it, was +whirling her about in a waltz. And the tune—was the +<i>Blue Danube</i>!</p> + +<p>In the midst of the sweet old tune, the door they had +entered a moment ago swung open, and two men entered. +They were striking looking men and were dressed in the +latest style of clothes. They were both smoking cigars, +and the room was soon filled with the aroma. But they +must have been good cigars, because the odor they gave +off was pleasant—so Mildred thought.</p> + +<p>Miss Jones dropped her at once and flew to one of them, +who gathered her in his arms, and dreadful, before the +others he kissed her. As Mildred swallowed, she turned +and nestled in his embrace, and with his hands he pulled +her head back until her round throat stood out beautifully, +and kissed her again and again.</p> + +<p>Mildred was shocked at such immodesty; but before +she got over it, the other stood over her, smiling down +into her face with eyes that danced like fire. She fell +away from beneath his amorous gaze, and ran across the +room and got behind a chair. She turned and looked at +him wildly now. He hurried after her. His lips were +pursed to say something funny, and then he saw her +eyes. He stopped suddenly and fell back a step, while +his smile died and his gaze, as he saw her now, grew +pointed.</p> + +<p>"Thunder!" he muttered slowly. The others disembraced +themselves, and regarded them for a moment. +They looked from one to the other, and then three pairs +of eyes rested upon her alone. At first they were dubious, +and then, as they saw the frightened look, they changed +to something akin to contempt.</p> + +<p>"Aw, kid," cried Miss Jones—and Mildred had never +imagined she could be so coarse. "'Cut' it. He's a <i>good</i> +guy, he is. A <i>thoroughbred</i>!" She looked at the man +now, who appeared a trifle angry. "You're spoiling it +all. He'd <i>like</i> you; but he don't want too much of the +kid play."</p> + +<p>"These good lookers are always hard t' land," said +the man. "But this trick appears the hardest." Then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span> +to her he said: "Come on kid. Look over my hurry of +a moment ago. That face of yours, I must say, got me +'daffy'," and he laughed with a toss of the head.</p> + +<p>Her tension relaxed, and she permitted herself to come +from behind the chair. A moment later they were seated +around the large table in the center of the room. A +waiter now stood over them, with eyes askance.</p> + +<p>"Little Sunny Brook'll do me," said one of the men. +The other nodded the same; his eyes rested upon Miss +Jones, who tossed her head gayly, and said:</p> + +<p>"Aw, Dickie and Joe, I don't like it straight. Make +mine a dry martini."</p> + +<p>He attended Mildred now, while the others conversed. +She did not know what to say. She had not thought of +anything to drink; but in that moment she knew she +would have to order something.</p> + +<p>"A coca cola," she said quietly.</p> + +<p>Three pair of eyes regarded her then with surprise +evident. As it became clear to them, all threw their +heads back and laughed loudly. The waiter stood with +a little smile about the corners of his mouth, which +showed he possessed a sense of humor.</p> + +<p>Mildred was silent and looked at them in surprise. +Presently, when they had quieted, Miss Jones said a +little impatiently:</p> + +<p>"You're a good one, kid. I must say so. Coca cola! +ha, ha! But they don't carry coca cola at this 'joint'," +whereupon they laughed again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am," now spoke the waiter. "We carry <i>coca +cola</i>, but it's used as a wash." They laughed long and +earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Bring us a quart of Sunny Brook," said the man who +was nearest her. "And—yes, bring this little girl here +a coca cola—for a wash."</p> + +<p>He lit a fresh cigar, and smiled.</p> + +<p>"Play cards, kid?" he inquired, and looked at her. +"Why don't you say something, sweetness? Gee! Has +the cat got your tongue?" he complained a trifle nervously, +as he flicked the ashes from the cigar.</p> + +<p>The waiter had returned now with many glasses and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span> +bottles, and their drinks were before them. Before her +was placed a small bottle of the drink she had ordered, +while two glasses were arranged beside it, while a +larger glass filled with ice stood beside them. The +others had before them likewise, all except Miss Jones, +whose drink was in a peculiar glass with a long stem, +and flashed green in the electric light.</p> + +<p>The others poured their glasses about half full, while +Mildred poured a part of the fluid in one of the glasses +before her. It foamed! She stopped, and when it quit +foaming, the glass was only about a third full. She had +not observed how much it lacked of being full, when +suddenly the room resounded with the music of the +electric piano. It took her so much by surprise, that she +turned quickly and looked. When she saw that it was +only the piano, she turned to them again, as they raised +their glasses. She took up hers, at a sign from them. +It was full. They all drank together.</p> + +<p>She had a mighty effort to swallow hers. When she +had succeeded, she made a wry face, and tasted the stuff +gingerly. She had never drunk coca cola that tasted +like that before. The others smiled naively. She felt +strange. She raised her hands to her head. It felt +stranger still. She wondered at such a strange feeling +after a drink of something she was fond of? She had +drunk as many as a half dozen bottles a day, and as +many as three bottles in an hour. But three bottles +had never any effect; while now, her head was whirling +terribly. Everything about her swam. She saw the +others smiling, and then she heard herself talking and +laughing; but she was not aware of what she was saying.</p> + +<p>It was perhaps an hour later, or it might have been +only a half, but she was on the street. She was trying +to walk, but apparently she was not succeeding, for the +man she had run from was supporting her. He had his +arm about her waist; while his free hand held both of +hers. She was not talking now. She was resting. Her +neck was limp. Presently they turned into another +place. She did not know where. Before them raised +another flight of stairs, and up this they walked—that is,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span> +he did and almost carried her. A full minute it took +before they reached the top. An old woman met them. +Mildred saw her for a brief moment, and recalled that +she resembled the one where she had a room.</p> + +<p>"My wife is sick," she heard the man say, "is sick. +I wish to get a room."</p> + +<p>"His wife?" she repeated, but that was all. Darkness +was all about her now; but the man repeated his +words, and at the same time handed the old woman a +half dollar. A moment later a door closed behind them, +and the next a key turned.</p> + +<p>But Mildred Latham didn't hear it.</p> + +<p>The old woman looked after them a moment, as she +rubbed the new coin in her palm. She raised it to her +lips and kissed it with a smack. She regarded the door +of the room in which they had disappeared, and then +she burst into a fit of laughing.</p> + +<p>"My wife—sick—<i>Hell!</i>" And went about her duties.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWELVE_3" id="CHAPTER_TWELVE_3"></a>CHAPTER TWELVE</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Midnight, December Thirty-first</i></p> + + +<p>Wilson Jacobs sat in his study, gazing across the room +at a clock. It "tick-tocked" as it always had. The +minute hand slipped from notch to notch. There was +nothing whatever wrong with it. It was a good clock. +As he gazed at it, he recalled that in the years it had +stuck to the wall there, it had never stopped; it had +never varied from standard city time more than a minute +or two during those years. And yet he watched the +clock as though it were something strange; something +uncanny; something that spelled his end.</p> + +<p>For it was, and it marked the failure of his great +effort.</p> + +<p>In a few hours now that clock would show another +year, for it was the night of December thirty-first.</p> + +<p>In a few hours, it would tell him, as it had told him +before, that a new year had come. Yes. But this year +it would tell him more. How much more? It was hard +to estimate. He made no effort to do so. He had already +done that in the past few days—the days he would +always remember as the darkest in his life of hope.</p> + +<p>A noise in the other room came to his ears. It was a +sigh. It was Constance, and he was sorry for her. Yes, +Constance had hoped until the last minute that he +would succeed. But he had failed....</p> + +<p>Vainly he struggled in the great northeast, to secure +those thousands to complete the amount necessary. He +had gone from town to town. The people were kind; +they were considerate, and they listened patiently; +while he waxed eloquent and forceful in his appeal for +this great purpose. He met the nicest people he had +ever met—he knew that. So refined, and how much +they appreciated his great cause, was shown in every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span> +town, large or small. They took him through many of +the buildings. They were perfect pictures, and the +management was the best. The per cent of people who +could not read or write in those parts, did not include +any of the native born. He had never, he recalled this +now strangely, met people who were so courteous. He +had been so long in Dixie, and, therefore, accustomed to +the country there, that he found it hard to believe that +white people could be so courteous to a Negro. True, +but they held to their money. They shook their heads +and pointed across the water—and he knew.</p> + +<p>He had raised less than three thousand dollars. He +lacked almost twenty-five thousand of having the proper +amount when he returned home.</p> + +<p>His sister met him with a kiss. She looked hopefully +into his eyes at the same moment, and knew he had +failed. So they had said nothing about it. Others came +in as soon as they learned he had returned, and it was +with a heavy heart that he told them the result.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the professor of the colored high school, +"you made a brave fight, Reverend. Yes, you made a +brave fight. More than ten thousand dollars in such a +short time is going some. You beat Grantville by twice +the amount, and did it in one-third the time."</p> + +<p>"By the way, Doctor," said a mail clerk, as he was +passing out. He stopped, and lighting a cigar, continued: +"What ever became of that young lady who played at +the church, and who started the cash subscription?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the professor, "I have intended to ask +you myself."</p> + +<p>"My friends," said Wilson, "it is the strangest thing +I ever knew; but we have not seen that young lady +since the day you were here—in fact, we have not seen +her since she left the church that Sunday."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" both exclaimed. "That is strange!"</p> + +<p>"The strangest thing, I should say," he declared. +They spoke of it at some length, and then they took +their leave. Others had come, and made it harder for +him to tell. Words of consolation were given by all, +which made it still harder.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span></p> + +<p>He arose after a time, and walked back and forth across +the room. He thought of the Y.M.C.A. in a northern +city for colored men, and where he had stopped. Such +a delightful place it had been. There was a pool hall, +a cafe, a barber shop, a complete gymnasium, a swimming +pool, a reading room with piles of the latest magazines; +in fact, there was everything to keep young men out of +bad company, and, at the same time, provided for them +a place for clean, manly sport. He had stopped there +three days, and during that time he had observed the +great good it was doing the young Negro men of that +city. The Negro population was not one-fourth that of +this town, and still the schools there were the best; +while almost everything in the way of public conveniences +was open to the black people. If the Y.M.C.A. +could be of such great good in a community of that +sort, words, figures, estimates, all were inadequate to +describe what a great benefit it would be to this town.</p> + +<p>And, until the last day he did not despair. He hoped +and he worked. "The administration has balled the +financial situation up so badly, that it is useless to seek +subscriptions for anything," one had told him.</p> + +<p>"A million and more dollars he has given away," said +the secretary of a millionaire he had consulted. "Yes, +I will arrange an appointment," but from the way he +said it, he was sure it would do no good.</p> + +<p>"Crime and evil environments have undermined the +foundations of our society; those people, for whom a +million men went to battle fifty years ago and freed, +have reached a place in our American society, where it is +the greatest mistake of a decade that they are not provided +with better surroundings." He said this time and +again, and the people heard him through, but in the +end it was the same.</p> + +<p>By some he was greatly encouraged. If the gift of the +Jew could be extended a year, all would be well, he was +sure; but that had been settled.</p> + +<p>"I am asking you for assistance, because we have at +our disposal three-fourths of the amount necessary; +but, without your assistance in this, this three-fourths +reverts back to those who have offered it."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The country is in a bad shape," and they pointed +again across the water.</p> + +<p>And now he had returned, and had to admit to himself +and the others that he had failed. He forgot his own +desire; he wanted the association for the great good it +would do his people.</p> + +<p>He seated himself, and mechanically his eyes sought +the clock again. It tick-tocked the minutes away, and +the minutes became hours, and every hour drew him +near the end. If he could present twenty-five thousand +dollars to the Y.M.C.A. by twelve o'clock that night, +it would be saved.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it occurred to him to go into the street and +walk about for a time. Maybe he could forget it. He +picked up his hat, that he had thrown on the floor in his +absentmindedness, and drawing on his overcoat, made +his way thither. It was a crisp night, and the chill, as +he struck the street, made him quicken his steps, and he +walked briskly in the direction of the river.</p> + +<p>He observed with a start, presently, that he was going +in the same direction and the same street, he had taken +before going north. The incident and the words he had +overheard came back to him, and he thought of Mildred +with a pang of the heart. "I wish I could see her now," +he said; and then, in the next breath, he said no. "I +would have to tell her that I had failed, after her kind +words. She said I would succeed. Yes, she said that—and +meant it." He walked on, and finally fell to talking +to himself aloud.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Wilson Jacobs, with all you have been through, +you have come to this in the end. You've failed." And +then something somewhere in his mind said: "Yes, you +have failed, but don't despair. All may not be lost. +As long as there is life, there is hope." He laughed at +this, and wondered then at the strange caprice of the +human brain. "Wonderful," he commented. "I wonder +how did man ever come to be. In the years when he was +wild, that was different. But now he is becoming so +wise, that almost miracles are accomplished. He continues +to grow wiser as the years go by, until I wonder +what it will all come to in the end."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span></p> + +<p>By now he had reached the place where he overheard +the voices of a few weeks before. It was dark. Not a +soul nor a sound came from within. He stood where he +had heard the voices, but no voices came to him that +night. He presently retraced his footsteps. He could, +at least, be home and comfort his sister. She could not +be allowed to be alone while the old year died and the +new sprang into being. He dragged himself along in an +aimless fashion, not hurrying. As he figured in his +mind, he had yet two hours.</p> + +<p>When he arrived at the house and entered, he resumed +his seat in the study, and, since there was nothing else +to do, he resumed his task of watching the clock. Not +as much time was left as he thought for. It was now +almost eleven. In one hour and a few minutes, it was +goodby to seventy-five thousand dollars for the purpose +of building and establishing a Y.M.C.A. for the black +youth of the city.</p> + +<p>He heard Constance in the other room, breathing +heavily, and wondered whether she was sick. He watched +the clock now as a man who waits for the death knell. +Time seemed to go slowly, he thought. He would call +his sister when the clock reached a quarter of. Yes, +and together they would watch, watch, watch. He +dozed off to sleep. Suddenly he awoke with a start. +He had slept the old year out, was his first thought. +Then he looked at the clock. No, not quite. He rubbed +his eyes.</p> + +<p>And then he listened. Had he heard someone, or +something? "Of course not," he muttered half aloud. +"This game is telling on me," and he raised his hand +and grasped his head. And still he felt something had +happened. He arose and walked back and forth across +the room, and then sat down again. As he did so, his +eyes saw the clock.</p> + +<p>It was now eleven thirty-five.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN_3" id="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN_3"></a>CHAPTER THIRTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Into the Infinite Long Ago</i></p> + + +<p>"That is the Ponca, dear," said Sidney, taking her +hand, as they walked up the road.</p> + +<p>"But you did not call it that in your story, Sidney," +said Mildred, squeezing his hand fondly. "I have never +been on its banks. When are you going to take me +there?" she now said poutingly.</p> + +<p>He placed his free hand under her chin, and dared her +to look into his face with such a frown. She failed, and +laughed instead.</p> + +<p>"But I want to go," she cried, swinging the hand she +held back and forth. "Won't you take me soon—take +me today?" she begged.</p> + +<p>He drew her to him, placed his arms about her, and +kissed her fondly.</p> + +<p>A moment later they walked down the wide road.</p> + +<p>"And this is the <i>Rosebud Country</i>," she said, allowing +her eyes to stretch over a land to which she saw no end.</p> + +<p>"Yes, this is the <i>Rosebud Country</i>," he said contentedly.</p> + +<p>She regarded him a moment closely, before she spoke. +In that look, she appeared to see him as she had never +seen him before. This man was her husband, and he +had spent the prime years of his life in this land to the +northwest. He loved it, and now she would love it, +because he did. In the years gone by he had hoped—he +had built his hopes here, and into that life had come +another. After that things had been different. Yes, +things had been different, and that was why she was +here. But she was happy. Yes, she was happy. He +was too, so that made her more happy.</p> + +<p>"See those rocks on yonder hill?" she heard him say, +and she allowed her eyes to follow the direction of his +finger.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yes, and oh Sidney, I gaze each day at them, and +at the smaller one just this side of it. Tell me of them, +and of the little one, too."</p> + +<p>And as they strolled together down this prairie road +to the valley of the Ponca, Sidney Wyeth, her husband, +told her the story of the two hills.</p> + +<p>"Many, I know not how many years ago, yon hill +was the scene of many a crime, so the squaws told me." +And he sighed, as he seemed to look back over the time. +She placed her hand now in the curve of his arm and +held it closely. It seemed to satisfy him, and with a +glance at her, and a far away look in his eyes, he proceeded +to tell the legend of the hills.</p> + +<p>"It was before the days of the mighty Sitting Bull, +and Red Cloud, too; before the days of the cowboy—and +even the squaw man. It was in the days of Chief Stinking +Eye, who was the bravest—so the Indians say—of all the +great Sioux warriors. Stinking Eye and Chief Bettleyon +loved one and the same maiden—the daughter of Chief +Go-Catch-The-Enemy.</p> + +<p>"Go-Catch-The-Enemy was a great chief, and owned +all the land in what is called the Bull Creek district now, +while Bettleyon lived with the tribe of his father in a +part of this country far to the west, in that part which +is now called the Cottonwood Creek district.</p> + +<p>"This vast tribe of red men lived by hunting principally; +but their women discovered that crops could be grown in +this soil, and, with rude plows and hoes, and whatever +they had, they dug little patches in the soil along the +creek, and in springtime, they planted these patches in +maize and beans; so, when the zero weather of winter +made the wigwams the most comfortable place, they +kept from starving by feeding thereon. Of course, that +was in the day when the buffalo was plentiful, and they +had meat; but with cornmeal this was made more +delicious. So, in this way, the Sioux Indians came +through many cold winters, and went to war again in +the early springtime; that is, the men did, while the +women repeated the task each year, of planting the patches +to Squaw corn or maize.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How they fought, and bled and died, is a matter not +trivial. About this time, there came a man. He rode a +pony, and he had on boots—not moccasins—and he +wore a hat on his head. He carried a rifle in his hand, +and that was the first time <i>these</i> red men had seen such +a weapon. Strange, as it was to them, he talked fluently +in their tongue, and withal his cleverness, he became a +favorite among the many. Before long he was, in reality, +chief over all. From the Niobrara across the Keya +Paha, including the Ponca, the Mastadon, on to the +Whetstone and Landing Creek and to the White River, +he ruled. They named him Rain-In-The-Face, and he +made them all believe that he was next to the great +white father.</p> + +<p>"There came a day when he made love to Go-Catch-The-Enemy's +daughter, Winnetkha, which was her name, +and she was said to have been the most beautiful daughter +of the Sioux Indians the <i>Rosebud</i> had ever known.</p> + +<p>"This, as you might expect, made enemies of Young +Chief Bettleyon and also Chief Stinking Eye. But the +white man was shrewd. He thought at night, when all +was quiet and the Indians slept. So the mornings were +used in carrying out the thoughts of the night before, +while the Indians had to think of war.</p> + +<p>"So, before any knew, the white man had made +Winnetkha his own, and took her to live in a real house, +that he had made the Indians build for him, of straight +ash logs, with bark peeled off and hewn on the inside, +until the white wood glistened like silver.</p> + +<p>"That was the beginning of the breeds, and after that, +many became crossed and have not stopped until recently; +but Bettleyon and Stinking Eye never got over it, and +when the pale face was spending his time herding the +cattle that were now replacing the buffalo, they intrigued +cruelly against him.</p> + +<p>"Winnetkha overheard their plan, and informed him +when he came from the herd that night, and so he kept +watch. They came late, with a band of picked men and +loyal followers, and began at once to make war on the +big house. All night they fought, but the Indians were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> +shrewd this time, and fought from long range. They +shot at the house with arrows that were heated red hot +on the point, until at last they set it on fire. This, of +course, drove the white man and his squaw out. They +managed to escape and reached safety ere they were +discovered. But the white man was angry, and he +swore to have revenge, so, loading his rifle, he saddled +his horse and came down single-handed on the Indians +and killed many, and routed the rest.</p> + +<p>"He was not bothered any more for years afterward, +but the Indian, you know, never forgets, so, one day, +when he was grazing his herds near the top of the hill, +he looked up to find himself almost hemmed in by the +skulking red devils. He rushed to safety behind the +rocks at the top, where you see them. Here he fought +until his ammunition was exhausted, and he was without +defense, with the Indians all about him.</p> + +<p>"And it was then that he looked about for other +weapons of defense, and discovered a den of rattlers. +Then, one at a time, he allowed the Indians to approach +him, and as they did and went to look for him, they +were struck in the face by a rattler. More than twenty +were bitten, so 'tis said, and more than half died from +the effects. And then they killed him.</p> + +<p>"Old Go-Catch-The-Enemy made war on them afterward +and a reign of outlawry began; but to the white +man, his son-in-law, he gave a great funeral, and did +not bury him on a tree top, where buzzards picked the +bones, as had been the custom; but the Indians preferred +such a burial rather than that a coyote should +dig them up from the earth. He was buried on the top +of the little hill to the side, as you see, with stones arranged +about him, and so deep in the earth, that the wolves +never bothered.</p> + +<p>"So, that is the legend of those hills that you see, +and they are the land mark. Those who live here will +not soon forget it."</p> + +<p>They stood on the banks of the Ponca now, and listened +to the happy birds that filled the air with music like +thousands of little bells. As they stood, arm in arm, +they appreciated all that life held in store for them.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span></p> + +<p>Suddenly from the west came a great noise. "Hark!" +cried the husband. "A prairie fire? Of course not. +The settlers made that impossible long since." He +looked anxiously in the direction from whence came the +noise. The sun could not be seen, and everything at +once grew dark. "A tornado!" cried Sidney, and, +grabbing his wife, he started to fall to the ground, but +too late! A sudden wind seemed to pick him up, and a +moment later whirled him into the air, while Mildred +cried out in agonizing tones:</p> + +<p>"Sidney, Sidney, come back, come back; don't leave +me!" But on he flew, with the wind raising him higher +and higher into the air, while she moaned until she felt +her heart would break. Everything was so dark about +her that she could not see, and then, suddenly it began +to clear. Darkness was not about her, for overhead +burned an electric light. She lay across a bed. She +stood up and looked about her.</p> + +<p>Her brain throbbed terribly, while she tried to recall +where she was, and then slowly it all came back to her. +Miss Jones—the visit to the blind tiger—a bottle of +coca cola—"Oh, my God!" she cried in piteous tones. +"I'm lost! I'm lost! I'm lost!"</p> + +<p>She rushed to the door. It was bolted. She paused a +moment as she stood by it. Where had <i>he</i> gone! She +had a watch on her wrist; she looked at it. She had +not been there long. She recalled looking at it just +before drinking the stuff in the glass. That was exactly +an hour before. It was fully a half hour later when she +had been brought to this place. But <i>where</i> was the man.</p> + +<p>She looked across the room to a chair. Over the back +of it lay the overcoat he had worn. Then it became clear +to her. He had stepped out a moment to get something +perhaps. She walked to the door quickly and tried the +knob. It was locked and the key was gone. She became +frantic as she ran around the room. She tried the window +again. Useless. Besides, when she peeped under +the shade, it was too far to the ground. She stood +dumbly for a moment. Presently, mechanically, she +walked to a dresser that stood to one side, and peered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span> +in the glass at herself. She recoiled when she saw her +face. It was swollen, and her eyes looked strange. She +could not believe herself. She looked again. "Yes," +she whispered, "this is <i>I</i>!" She looked away. The top +of the dresser was covered with a newspaper. Mechanically +she found herself looking over it. It was not a city +paper, she could see, so, somewhat curiously, she turned +it over and saw the front page. Her eyes chanced to +fall on an article two columns in width. She read a few +lines, and then, with a muffled cry, she staggered backward, +clutching the paper. She sought the chair or the +bed—anything, she was too weak to stand now. But, +ere she had reached either, she suddenly stood stiffly +erect, while the blood seemed to freeze in her veins.</p> + +<p>A step sounded in the hallway, and a moment later, +a key rattled in the lock. The <i>man</i> was returning.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN_3" id="CHAPTER_FOURTEEN_3"></a>CHAPTER FOURTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Go Brother! In God's Name, Go!</i>"</p> + + +<p>"I am truly sorry to see the colored people of this +town fail in their effort to secure a Y.M.C.A. for their +youth," said the secretary of the white Y.M.C.A., as +he rested his elbows for a moment upon the cigar case.</p> + +<p>"And they won't get it after all," said a young man +whose father had given five hundred dollars to the cause. +"They certainly need something of the kind. The crime +and condition of the colored people of the southern +states, give this section a bad name in the eyes of the +enlightened world," he commented, lighting a cigarette +and sprawling his legs in front of him, when he had taken +a seat.</p> + +<p>"I regret it more because that fellow, Wilson Jacobs, +the secretary, has been a faithful worker, if there ever +was one," the secretary said thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"How did they happen to fall down on it? I understand +that the white association has subscribed twenty-five +thousand dollars?" inquired another.</p> + +<p>"So did a Chicago Jew, and likewise seventeen thousand +dollars were subscribed from the city and other places, +by the white people; but only ten thousand dollars could +be raised among the colored people—or rather, only +about five thousand. He secured about the same amount +from the white people here and in the north."</p> + +<p>"I met that fellow down here one day, and say!" +exclaimed another, "he impressed me as much as any +person I ever met, I want to tell you!"</p> + +<p>"How did they ever come out with the effort over at +Grantville?" inquired another.</p> + +<p>"They failed," said the secretary, and then added: +"The gift from the Jew philanthropist has run for five +years, and expires tonight at twelve o'clock." So saying,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span> +all eyes sought the clock that hung on the wall above +them.</p> + +<p>"They have only a few minutes left, according to that," +smiled one.</p> + +<p>"Say, wouldn't it be a sensation, if that fellow came +tearing in here at one minute to twelve," said one, and +laughed. The others joined in, but the secretary did +not share in the joke, notwithstanding that it was not +meant to be depreciating.</p> + +<p>"If he should," said the secretary, walking from +behind the case, "I am authorized to acknowledge the +same, and the colored people would get their association. +But, of course, I do not anticipate such miracles tonight."</p> + +<p>A moment later, they all filed to another part of the +building, where hundreds were gathered to watch the +old year out and the new in, and where music soon made +them forget the subject they had been discussing.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Twenty minutes of the year was left. In five minutes +Wilson Jacobs would call his sister, and together they +would watch. But the new year would bring no joy to +their hearts. It meant that a great struggle would end +in failure. He watched the clock by the minute. It was +now eleven forty-one. Nineteen minutes left.</p> + +<p>Presently he heard a light footfall. He looked up and +saw his sister coming toward him. She looked tired and +worn; the strain she had been laboring under was plainly +evident in her face.</p> + +<p>She came straight to him. What was it that made +her regard him as she did. Had she seen, in these last +minutes, how much it hurt him to have to pronounce his +great effort a failure. She advanced to where he sat, +and impulsively bent over and kissed him. As she +raised up, both pairs of eyes saw the clock, and both +pair of lips murmured:</p> + +<p>"Eighteen minutes left." And then his lips said:</p> + +<p>"Yes, sister, eighteen minutes left to raise twenty-five +thousand dollars for the Y.M.C.A. for our people." +He lowered his head, and sighed long and deeply. She +placed her hands about his forehead, and let them slip +back over his hair.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My poor brother, my poor brother!" And then, for +the first time she observed a package. With womanly +curiosity, she inquired:</p> + +<p>"What is this, Wilson?" and pointed toward it. He +sat up quickly as though he had been asleep.</p> + +<p>"That," he replied, blinking. "Why, I don't know. +I declare. I didn't know it was there." He was thoroughly +awake now, as well as curious.</p> + +<p>"Wonder what it is," she said, curiously.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," he breathed, turning the package over. +"And you are sure you didn't put it there?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, but I am curious to know what it contains," +and she turned it over, while her face lit with a little +smile that was carefree. He saw it, and said:</p> + +<p>"Why dear, if it will please you, open it as the last +thing in the old year."</p> + +<p>"Oh, brother, that is so nice of you," and she took the +knife he handed her, opened it, and quickly cut the +strings. A package was enclosed, tied with paper. She +pursued the task of cutting strings, and then, as she +unwrapped the paper from about it she mused:</p> + +<p>"Oh, I wonder what it can be!" It was open now, +and two pairs of eyes opened their widest, while her +voice cried:</p> + +<p>"Wilson, Wilson! My God! It's money! <i>It's money +to save the Y.M.C.A. for our people!</i>" Both now regarded +the clock. Fifteen minutes was left to reach the Y.M.C.A. +building thirteen blocks away! It was she who +spoke:</p> + +<p>"Go brother! In God's name, go!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Had it been any other night but the night of December +thirty-first, a man who tore wildly down the middle of +the street, bareheaded, and with a woman with hair +flowing loosely behind her, the officers on duty would +surely have made an arrest. But as it was, they only +smiled amusedly, as they remarked a new freak of meeting +the new year. How little did any feel or know that upon +that wild run, depended one hundred thousand dollars +for the salvation of thousands of black youth, until the +end of time....<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span></p> + +<p>The papers carried the account in large headlines the +following morning.</p> + +<blockquote><p class="center">"REVEREND WILSON JACOBS SPRINGS A COUP</p> + +<p>"Energetic worker and secretary of the Y.M.C.A. for +the colored people raised twenty-five thousand dollars, +and completed the condition of the association at two +minutes of twelve o'clock last night. Two minutes +later, more than seventy-five thousand dollars would +have been unavailable for the purpose."</p></blockquote> + +<p>In a column and a half, the people of the city and +elsewhere read the account of the wonderful victory that +meant so much for the colored people of the city, of +which the population was two-fifths. It was likewise a +victory for the white people, all of whom could appreciate +the fact. In securing the same, the city, with the unenviable +reputation of being one of the most criminal +cities in the world, now took first place in the line for +uplift among the colored people, as it would be the only +city in the south to have a Y.M.C.A. for its black +population.</p> + +<p>The fact made thousands of black people buy the +blind tigers and drugstores out of whiskey on New +Years day. <i>It was their greatest day since freedom!</i></p> + +<p>In Grantville, everybody wondered how they had done +it, and in Effingham and Attalia; and then the people +of the fortunate city wondered too, after their excitement +had cooled and they could think. Wilson Jacobs wondered +likewise, and so did Constance. Everybody +wondered.</p> + +<p>But they never knew.</p> + + +<p class="center small">END OF BOOK THREE</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p class="center big"><a name="BOOK_IV" id="BOOK_IV"></a>BOOK IV</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ONE_4" id="CHAPTER_ONE_4"></a>CHAPTER ONE</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>'Scriminatin' 'G'inst Nigga's</i>"</p> + + +<p>"Do you read d' papers?"</p> + +<p>"A' co'se I does. Wha' kind-a 'sinuations y're tryin' +t' pass on me, nigga?" said one, whose feelings were, at +that moment, very much injured.</p> + +<p>The heavy train pulled cumbersomely to the summit, +and stopped a moment, while the switch engine attached +to the rear, was uncoupled. A moment later, it continued +on its way.</p> + +<p>Miles to the rear and below Effingham it struggled for +one brief moment, and then, as a curve in the mountain +was being made, it finally disappeared from view.</p> + +<p>Sidney Wyeth settled back in his seat in the front end +of the Jim Crow car, and, with his feet spread over the +seat ahead, prepared himself languidly to enjoy the +four hundred odd miles that were before him.</p> + +<p>Only half a car, possibly not that much, was given +over to the use of the colored passengers. It was as +comfortable as the other part of the train, however, so +no discrimination was evident. The portion given to +them was, of course, next to the baggage car; while far +to the rear, as he observed when the train rounded a curve, +fully eight or ten cars were more or less filled with white +passengers. About half the number were Pullmans.</p> + +<p>"Den 'f y' read d' papers, yu autta know 'bout dis +'scrimination dat is a-goin' on up dere in Washington," +he overheard between three or four Negroes a few seats +to the rear.</p> + +<p>"Ah reads th' papers eve' day; but I 'on know wha' +you's a-drivin' at," contended another.</p> + +<p>"Den you do'n read d' papers den, case all dis accurred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span> +up dere las' fall, 'n' dere was a big awgument 'bout it, +'n' all de no'then papers done took sides agi'nst d' president."</p> + +<p>"Aw, sho!" cried the second speaker now quickly. +"Ah knows what youah talkin' 'bout now, sho thing!" +And he nodded his head understandingly. The other +observed him nevertheless, dubiously, but was patient +while the other enlightened him.</p> + +<p>"Yeh; you 'ferrin' t' dat bill dey had up dare about +'scriminatin' ag'inst nigga's. M-m. Yeh. Des 'ere bill +was a pretest from—well, somebody up no'th, a'-cose; +but it's to make dem stop havin' nigga's eatin' in d' +kitchen, dat us it, sho," and he looked about him into +the faces of the listeners.</p> + +<p>The first speaker, confident at first that he was going +to show the other up as not knowing as much as he, +looked a trifle disappointed; but he didn't grant the +other the benefit of the doubt.</p> + +<p>The second speaker went on:</p> + +<p>"Yeh, I don read all 'bout dat. Yu see," he explained +very ostentatiously, "dare was 'n' editor, a sma't nigga +frum Boston who had done <i>been t' school 'n' graduated +frum college, and knowed ebreting</i>, 'n' 'e 'as a bill down +dare t' Washington, 'n' eve' body says t' 'im: 'Why +'on' you take dat bill up 'n' make d' president sign it!' +So dis nigga 'e finally git mad 'n' takes it 'roun' to de +president's office, 'n' shows it to'im 'n' tole him: 'Sign +it!' Now, dy president he look at it, and read it over a +little. Then 'e jumped up outer 'is chaeh, 'n' says: +'I won' sign tha' bill!' 'N' dey says 'e got awful mad, +'n' sto'med aroun' fo' 'n' houh.</p> + +<p>"So dis Boston nigga 'e got mad den, too, 'n' den 'e +got du' president tole. Says 'e: 'I voted fo' yu; 'n' so +did a lotta udder crazy nigga's, 'n' now we 'us about t' +be drivin outta du race, kase why? So now, I dun come +all d' way heah frum Boston wi' dis bill that I wants you +t' sign, t' make dese secretaries quit fo'cin' nigga's t' +eat in d' kitchen!' Den du president 'e got madder +still, 'n' wants t' fight. But they pa'ts 'm, but d' president +'lows: 'I won' sign dat bill, I won' sign it!' 'E stamps 'is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span> +foot den, 'e be so mad. But dis nigga, 'e ain' no southern +darkey 'n' 'e stans pat, an 'monstrates dat 'e will sign it, +ah dare won' no mo' nigga's t' vote fo' 'im fo' president. +Well, du' president 'e is so mad dat he sto'm, 'n' finally +says: 'I won' sign dat bill, I won' sign hit! Befo' I'll +sign that bill—'n' 'e strikes 'is desk wi' 'is fist—'I'll qui' +mah job!'"</p> + +<p>"But," said another, who, up to this time, had taken +no part in the harrangue, "the president, ah taut, ain' +axed t' sign a bill ontell it had been acted on by congress."</p> + +<p>The others looked at each other now, in some surprise. +Then they observed the speaker, in a manner that was +serene with contempt, for his apparent ignorance. (?) +Then the second speaker said:</p> + +<p>"Aw, dis bill, y' see, 'us a secret. Dey wa'nt but +three people knowed 'bout it. 'N' dey was du editor +and du president—'n'—," he was thoughtful now, as he +meditated for a moment, and then said, "<i>Roosevelt!</i>"</p> + +<p>By this time the train had gotten under way, and it +thundered on its way southward, down among the scrub +pines that stood back from the single track. Croppings +of iron, Wyeth observed, reached far to the south of +Effingham, while the country, as far as soil was concerned, +was a desolate lot of red clay and rock. The train tore +through numerous little towns, consisting of a number of +shacks, built mostly of plain boards, standing straight +up and down, with smaller boards nailed on the cracks. +Before some of these shanties played white children, +whose appearance showed the life they lived, which was +apparently that of poverty; while at some distance, he also +observed were other houses, not as respectable as those +behind which white children played, and occupied by +Negroes. Little patches of cleared land that was scratched +over, denoted that agriculture was attempted in even +this poor soil. By the slenderness of the dead stalks, he +could see that it would take many acres to produce a +bale of cotton.</p> + +<p>On to the south the train hurried, and as they neared +the capital of the state, he observed, with some encouragement, +that the soil grew a little deeper; but, at the best,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[Pg 425]</a></span> +would have been laughed at back in the <i>Rosebud Country</i>. +And the same sight met his gaze all along. This had +once been a proud, aristocratic state; but, he wondered +if it became so by the returns of crops from such poor +land. Yet he was seeing only a small part of it from +the car window.</p> + +<p>A cotton gin greeted the traveler at almost every +station; while everywhere the scrub pines and rocks +were largely in evidence. If all the state was like what +he saw from the car window, with the exception of that +which lay about the capital for a distance of fifteen or +twenty miles, he scarcely wondered that so many Negroes +preferred the city, where wages were sufficient to give +them something in life.</p> + +<p>It was a cold, disagreeable day in the beginning; +but, as afternoon wore on, he was cheered to see the +elements clear, and the air become warmer.</p> + +<p>The highlands were behind them now, and had given +place to great trees, while back from the track log houses +interspersed the forest here and there. The further +south the train pulled, the deeper became the swamp, +while the trees towered to heights that could not be +fully estimated from the car window. The atmosphere, +which had before been dry, was now charged with a +peculiar dampness, that seemed to rise from the earth, +which melted away from the tracks.</p> + +<p>After many miles, in which the afternoon sun barely +penetrated the deep forest, the train passed through +another pine district. The trees were slender and scattered, +while thousands of stumps stood lowly and darkly +about. As he looked closer, he saw that among the +standing timber, at the base, were little buckets. He +made inquiries and was told that this was where turpentine +came from. He laughed then at his ignorance. +He had forgotten entirely that it was the south which +produced the greatest amount of this article.</p> + +<p>"And when they have tapped the tree for such a +purpose, I suppose it is of no further good but to be +cut down?"</p> + +<p>"They cut them down at once, and make most of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[Pg 426]</a></span> +them into cord wood," replied the person of whom he +asked.</p> + +<p>"Now these people," said Wyeth, pointing to the +black people, "they attend to the most of it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; the women to the turpentine, and the men to +the timber."</p> + +<p>The train had now come into a land of swamp. As +far as eyes could see, there was a profusion of vines and +palm leaves. He wondered if that was where the palm +leaf fans came from. If so, the harvest was abundant. +For miles and miles the swamp was thick with them, and +they appeared to be all of fan size. Water stood a foot +deep, while the track rose, perhaps, upwards of four or +five feet above it all. The trees were a strange variety +to him, while nowhere for miles did it appear possible +for anyone to live. The mosquitoes, he judged, must +surely find this place a haven when the days were warm; +while fever could fairly thrive.</p> + +<p>Now the train had left the deeper forests, and was +rolling across numerous trestles that stood high above +the water. Great lagoons were crossed, where large +birds, sea gulls and others not so large, flew about undisturbed. +Miles away at last, rose church spires and +ship hoists, and he then knew they were approaching a +city that was a great seaport.</p> + +<p>A half hour later, they stood in the station. He found +his way out over the tracks and into the station, where +he entered the colored waiting room and lunch counter. +They were supposed to stop twenty minutes there; but, +before the lunch he had ordered was served, he observed +the train pulling out. He tore out and was about to +pass through a gate that was open, but was halted by a +young white man, who informed him that it was the +gate white people passed through.</p> + +<p>"But I'm traveling on that train, and it is pulling +out," he cried frantically.</p> + +<p>"Don't make any difference," said the other coldly. +"Enter through the niggers' gate," and pointed to the +rear. Wyeth tore down there, but it was closed and +locked. He gave up. Aboard the train was his luggage,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[Pg 427]</a></span> +while he must stand and see it go on without him, simply +for the sake of a rule, that Negroes and whites cannot +walk through the same gate. He was disgusted over +such an occurrence, and stood watching his train disappear. +It had gone well toward the end of the yards, +when it came to a stop, while the locomotive attached +thereto, whistled two or three times. Another man +came to the gate, and Wyeth said to him:</p> + +<p>"I'm traveling on that train. Can I not pass through +this gate and catch it?"</p> + +<p>He was permitted to, and breathed a deep drawn sigh. +As he passed the fop who kept him back, he gave him +a look, and wished they were both in the <i>Rosebud Country</i> +at that moment....</p> + +<p>A waiter, who had seen him go into the station, had +the vestibule of the diner open, and it was through this +he entered, as he caught the moving train.</p> + +<p>"I knew you would get balled up!" he exclaimed. +"I saw your controversy at the gate.... And wasn't +surprised, for you see, this is a <i>white man's country</i>." +Thereupon he smiled a hard, dry smile. Wyeth passed +forward to the Jim Crow car, and forgot the incident, +for it was best so.</p> + +<p>They had now come into the greater city, and he +got off.</p> + +<p>"Where can good accommodations be had here?" he +inquired of the porter.</p> + +<p>"Want a place to stop?" His face lightened perceptibly. +"If you will wait until I get through—say ten or +fifteen minutes—I'll carry you to a good place," he said, +and Sidney waited.</p> + +<p>He sat in the waiting room listening to the noise without. +About the four sides of the wall, sat many little +girls—that is, girls. They smiled upon him, and made +immodest advances. He wondered at it, but then he +recalled that this was supposed to be the most profligate +town in our states. He paid little attention to them. +Others entered, and they smiled upon them also.</p> + +<p>Presently the porter appeared, clothing changed, and +dressed neatly. Several of the girls gathered about him,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[Pg 428]</a></span> +and said many foolish things. He smiled upon some of +them, while he told others to go to the devil; and still +others he told to go to——but we will stop here. +And then they told him he could go there, too. They +left then, and Wyeth and he walked up a street that +was the widest, he felt certain, that he had ever seen.</p> + +<p>"Where are you from?" inquired the porter.</p> + +<p>Wyeth told him; whereupon the other whistled.</p> + +<p>"That's a long way from here. How do you like these +parts?"</p> + +<p>Wyeth didn't answer the last; but to the first he said: +"Yes, a long way," and fell silent.</p> + +<p>"Ever been here before?" said the porter.</p> + +<p>"Twelve years and more ago."</p> + +<p>"See quite a difference now, eh?"</p> + +<p>"I was not here long enough to see what there was in +the beginning."</p> + +<p>They walked up a street that was intersected at +various and irregular intervals, by numerous other streets, +that were as narrow, if not more so, than the one they +were following was wide. In the center of the wide +street were four car lines. This part of the street was +raised above the other, and was protected by a curbing, that +prevented anything with wheels from crossing, only at +the intersections. Wyeth remembered this. It was +something he had never seen elsewhere, and he wondered +who could have conceived the idea of making one street +so wide, and then crossing it with others that were so +narrow that only one single street car track was possible, +and, when passing down it, the wagons on either side +had to hug the curbing closely, or be collided with.</p> + +<p>"A beautiful place," he commented, pointing to the +maze of electric lights that lined the narrow cross streets, +and made their way as bright as day—brighter, he came +afterwards to see, when it rained.</p> + +<p>"This town was settled by French and Spaniards +many years ago, and they were very artistic in planning +for the future of the city," said the other.</p> + +<p>"It is apparent on all sides; I can see that," Wyeth +agreed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[Pg 429]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There are some of the most beautiful colored people +here you ever saw," said the other.</p> + +<p>"There is one now," said Wyeth, as a woman, different +from the kind he had been accustomed to, passed by.</p> + +<p>"Creole," advised the other.</p> + +<p>"And this is their native soil, so I understand," said +Wyeth, turning his head to take another look at the +woman with the beautiful face.</p> + +<p>"There are some," said the porter, "who cannot speak +English at all."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" exclaimed Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"Yes," went on the other. "Plenty cannot speak a +word of English, and they may be found in what is +called the French district. It is there you find them +with the most beautiful skin, and the finest and heaviest +hair you ever saw."</p> + +<p>"I hear they have frightful tempers," said Wyeth. +"Is it true?"</p> + +<p>"I would advise you to avoid any conflict with them, +lest you find out," said the other, smiling amusedly.</p> + +<p>"What is that?" said Wyeth, pointing to a bar before +which stood many men drinking.</p> + +<p>"Why, what?" said the other, then replied: "A +saloon."</p> + +<p>"And they are open on Sunday?" Yet he was not +surprised when he had thought, for he had seen the +same elsewhere. But the other replied:</p> + +<p>"The saloons never close here."</p> + +<p>"Never close! What do you mean?" said Wyeth.</p> + +<p>"What I say," from the other.</p> + +<p>"And still I do not understand you," said Wyeth. +And then added: "What time do they open in the +morning?"</p> + +<p>"They do not close at night; therefore, they do not +have to go to the trouble of opening in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Uh huh!"</p> + +<p>"There are saloons here that boast of having not +closed since before the Revolutionary War."</p> + +<p>"Good night!" Wyeth laughed. "Something historical +down here!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[Pg 430]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You'll learn more when you have been here a while. +This is the city of history—American history. We turn +here."</p> + +<p>And Wyeth came to see for himself. They were +crossing the wide street now, and went up another that +was as wide, but no cars ran up that way.</p> + +<p>"This is Basin court," said the other, as they paused +outside of a two-story structure, that opened its doors +upon the street.</p> + +<p>A big, fat, brown-skinned man appeared presently, +and bade them enter.</p> + +<p>When they were inside they met another—a woman, +and she was fatter still. It was the man's wife, and she +appeared to be in charge, from her statements regarding +the rental. They were from Alabama, and one glance +was sufficient to show they were not creole.</p> + +<p>Wyeth bought some beer, and the fat man went for it +with a pitcher. He returned with as much for a dime, as +would have cost twenty-five cents in Effingham. He +said so to the other, and then the others laughed and +said:</p> + +<p>"This is the city where they drink it. They drink +more here than anywhere else in the world." Wyeth +recalled a year before—but then these people had seen +only a small part of the world, as their conversation +later revealed, and, of course—but it didn't matter.</p> + +<p>"You genemens goin' to the dance?" said the woman.</p> + +<p>"To the dance?" Wyeth repeated. "This is Sunday!"</p> + +<p>They smiled at him now—all of them—and then said:</p> + +<p>"Sunday is the day of sport in this town. More +dances occur on Sunday than any other day."</p> + +<p>Wyeth whistled.</p> + +<p>"This is the creole city," and they smiled again.</p> + +<p>"This gentleman is from a more pious territory," said +the porter, appreciatively. He seemed to be very intelligent.</p> + +<p>"What kind of work do the genemen follow?" asked +the hostess.</p> + +<p>"Books," Wyeth replied.</p> + +<p>"They don't read much down here," she said, dubiously.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[Pg 431]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Some do everywhere—more or less!"</p> + +<p>"They are strongly engaged in the art of having a +good time here," remarked the porter, and laughed.</p> + +<p>"I suppose so," said Wyeth. "And, since practically +half of the colored people of the state are illiterate, I am, +of course, compelled to agree with you."</p> + +<p>They talked on other topics now, and Wyeth, not +feeling sleepy, suggested venturing out sight seeing. +He went alone, and what he saw, he did not soon forget.</p> + +<p>When the door had closed behind him, and his steps +died away in the distance, the fat man winked and the +woman smiled; then the pair spoke, in the same breath:</p> + +<p>"Books—huh! He he! Books—huh! He he!" They +regarded the porter with a smile; but he did not, strange +to say, share their point of view. But they had their +say, nevertheless.</p> + +<p>"Books—huh!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[Pg 432]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWO_4" id="CHAPTER_TWO_4"></a>CHAPTER TWO</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>At Last She Didn't Care</i></p> + + +<p>Mildred stood in the middle of the room, directly under +the electric light that filled the room with its bright +rays. She could see the end of the key, as it turned in +the lock, and, in that moment, a scheme entered her +head, like a flash. Locating the direction of the door, +and facing toward it, she reached up suddenly and +switched off the light. Instantly the room was ingulfed +in darkness. She hurried to the door, and stood just to +one side. Presently the knob turned and the man +entered. He stood on the threshold a moment, and she +heard him say:</p> + +<p>"Ah, the little girl is sleeping peacefully," and laughed. +"That was a devil of a dose a-whiskey that girl gave +her, though! Knocked her stiff! Darned if I don't +believe she was handing the straight dope after all." +He advanced now toward the middle of the room. Quick +as a flash she stepped out, and, seeing he had left the +key in the lock, she jerked the door closed, and, turning +the key, which she allowed to remain, rushed to the end +of the steps, and hurried down as fast as she could safely +venture.</p> + +<p>It was dark outside, and no one stood about the +entrance. She struck the pavement, looked up and down +a brief moment, and then hurried in a direction that led +to whither she knew not, but to escape was her only +thought. She hurried along for fully three blocks, and +then turned in another direction, and then one block in +another, and paused—feeling safe at last.</p> + +<p>Up to this time, she was not conscious that her head +was aching to a point that was almost splitting. She +placed her hand upon her forehead, and only then was +she aware that she had the paper she had picked from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[Pg 433]</a></span> +the dresser, closely clutched in her hand. The words +she had seen there, made her at once forget her headache +and all else.</p> + +<p>She thought of something then. She looked at the +watch on her wrist. "Yes, thank God, there is yet +time." An hour later she came back to the place where +she had stood, and continued in the direction she had +been going, looking from right to left for a lodging house.</p> + +<p>She stopped at several places where a sign over the +front advertised rooms, but, at each one they wanted +men only. She had no thought of going back to where +she had been stopping the last week; and, besides, she +knew not where she was, nor did she know the street or +number where she had been stopping, therefore was +confident she could not have found it, had she wished +to return.</p> + +<p>Upon the street, she encountered many people celebrating +the event of the coming year, and then she tried a +small house that set back in a yard, and which appeared +very neat from where she viewed it. She secured a +room, and retired at once. Setting the oil lamp on a +chair next to the bed, she unfolded the paper and read +the article on the front page carefully, over and over +again. It was an Effingham paper, and a date of some +time before. When she had read it, until she was convinced +that she was not dreaming, she sighed restfully +as she murmured:</p> + +<p>"At last, oh Lord, at last!"</p> + +<p>It was the Effingham <i>Age-Herald</i>, and the issue contained +the article by Sidney Wyeth, in which he severely +arraigned the leading people of his race in that city for +their disregard of the general welfare of their people.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad, so glad," she whispered softly. "And +to think that it came to my attention in such an extraordinary +manner!" She felt her forehead, and winced +when the heat and throb came into contact with the +touch. She made a wry face, as she recalled the taste +of stale whiskey. Only then did she become aware, that +when she had turned at the sound of the piano, someone +had filled her glass with liquor. And she had drunk it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[Pg 434]</a></span> +before she realized that it had been doped. She thought +of the incident; from the time she had met Miss Jones +at the corner, and had been informed of the part of the +town she was in. She shuddered and drew the coverlets +closely about her, as her mind went over it again. She +then tried to recall how she had followed Miss Jones to +the place where she had met the men. And there she +had drunk for the first time in her life, whiskey, although +she was not at the moment aware of it. She rose out of +the bed, as the dream came back to her; how the tornado +had taken Sidney into the air, and then the story of the +hills and the Indians. She pondered for a time, and +wondered if such a thing had been the history of the +<i>Rosebud Country</i>. And Sidney Wyeth had not been +caught in a tornado, but had swept a multitude of people +with his pen, in a burning article. She read over a part +of it again. The very evils he had berated the most +fiercely, were the things she had heard Wilson Jacobs +deplore, and speak of more than once. Yes, Sidney Wyeth +had written the truth. And from the way it was pictured, +she reckoned that it must have created a bit of excitement. +And that was the kind of man Sidney Wyeth was. +She smiled as she thought of it.</p> + +<p>"And I love him. Was it because of these principles, +that I strangely felt were inherent in him, that he has +been my dream, which has grown larger in my estimation, +in the months I have had no word of him?" she asked +herself. "I am going to him—I am, tomorrow. Of +course," she replied to herself in the next sentence, "I am +not going directly to him.... He wouldn't quite appreciate +that—oh, he wouldn't appreciate me at all; +but I love him, and am going where he is, and after +that——" she had no other words, nor thoughts. To +be where he was, maybe to see him, became the uppermost +desire in her mind.</p> + +<p>She did not, strangely enough, think any more about +the Y.M.C.A. She thought of her lover as, with a +peaceful smile, she fell asleep. She did not dream that +night, but lay as she had fallen asleep, and it was six +o'clock the following morning, the first of January, when +she awakened.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[Pg 435]</a></span></p> + +<p>She lay a half hour without any thoughts in her mind, +and then, observing a window next to the bed, she +raised it slightly, and peeped out. It was not yet so +very light. It was, apparently, a quiet street, occupied +by working people who were now in many numbers on +the way to their work. A boy with a bunch of papers +under his arm was passing in their midst, and then suddenly +she wrapped on the window pane. He looked up, +being accustomed to doing so, and, catching sight of her +hand, entered the gate and stood under the window with +an upraised paper, while she fished out a nickel and +dropped it into his hand.</p> + +<p>She smiled with an expression of satisfaction, as she +read the article relating to the Y.M.C.A. for colored +youth of the city, and was glad to note that Wilson +Jacobs came in for a great deal of praise. She laid it +aside for a time, and was thoughtful again.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she whispered to herself, "I will leave the city +at once. The one thing I so much desired, and which +has kept me here through these weary months, has been +obtained." She closed her lips and planned further.</p> + +<p>She decided to go to Effingham. She would send an +expressman for her things at Mother Jane's that morning. +She would then purchase a ticket and go by the first +train. She turned to the editorial column of the paper, +and was made happy by a lengthy editorial, relating the +effort for the Y.M.C.A., and praising Wilson Jacobs +further.</p> + +<p>She did not know, however, that the editor of the +paper that she was reading, and who was one of the most +ardent supporters in the Christian forward movement in +the south, had been at the Y.M.C.A. the evening +before. He had come with the others, out of curiosity, +when Wilson Jacobs had torn into the building, bareheaded +and looking like an insane man. And he had +written the article the first thing in the new year.</p> + +<p>She arose and dressed herself at seven o'clock, and +slipped out of the house without awakening anyone. +It was getting light now, and she went some blocks +before she encountered an expressman that satisfied her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[Pg 436]</a></span> +She gave him the instructions, and walked about, impatiently, +while she waited for him to return. As she +was waiting, she became possessed with a desire to see +the little house occupied by the Jacobs, and where she +had spent so many happy, hopeful months.</p> + +<p>She had no trouble finding it, since light had given +her an acquaintance with her surroundings. She found +that she was not far from it, and then recognized with a +start, that the same drayman she had sent for the goods, +was the one who had taken the same from the Jacobs' a +few months before. He had not recognized her, and she +now gave him no further chance to do so.</p> + +<p>She walked until the house was in sight, and then, +going around a block, she found herself within a half +block of it. Smoke was coming from the kitchen chimney, +and she knew they were astir.</p> + +<p>"Bless them!" she murmured, as she realized how +happy must be their hearts that morning. "And that +is why they are astir so soon. They do not usually arise +until nearly eight o'clock."</p> + +<p>As she stood gazing longingly at the house, she saw +Constance emerge from the rear, and scatter wheat to a +few chickens they had taken a delight in raising the past +summer. "If I could only go to her in this minute, and +feel her caress for just a moment, I would leave the city +the happiest woman in the world." She stopped when +she had said this. To realize that she was slipping out of +the city like a criminal, without greeting the friends she +had there, made her feel peculiarly guilty. She had no +enmity in her heart toward anyone—not even the man +who haunted her into the position she now assumed, and +whose sole purpose had been to satisfy an animal +desire. She knew she could not go to Constance, nor to +Mother Jane's—nor to anyone. She would leave the city +without saying goodbye to a soul. She turned her face +away, as she recalled that she had left Cincinnati the +same way. She had no friends there, and had avoided +making acquaintances. She almost choked with guilty +anguish as she asked herself:</p> + +<p>"Is it always to be this way? Am I forever to go from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[Pg 437]</a></span> +place to place under cover like a criminal? Am I always +to be without friends?" She couldn't make answer. +She could have a certain kind of friends; but she shuddered +when she realized what kind they would be. She +had never told anyone the secret.</p> + +<p>She had no desire, strangely, to do so. Only one +person among those she loved knew it, she now conjectured. +And she would leave to be near him soon. +He knew—a part of it ... and he had turned away and +had passed out of her life, when he learned it. He would +never come back; he would never forget it—and even if, +through any possible chance, she proved to him that it +was all a very different problem, could he ever forgive +her? Perhaps that was what made it harder to bear. +She almost believed he would not. In reading his book, +she had marked a cold, decided stand, and she felt that, +if he had made up his mind against her, which he had +apparently done, he was not likely to change.... It +depended upon the strength of his resolutions. She could +never get beyond a certain point in her dreams. But in +spite of that fact, something within her longed to be near +him; to see him; not to ask forgiveness—not to do +anything; but just to be near him, that was all.</p> + +<p>Wilson Jacobs stood on the porch at the front of the +house now, smoking a cigar in a way, she could at this +distance see, he enjoyed. Yesterday morning he could +not have smoked in so much peace; but today, the +future was brighter than it had ever been for him; she +felt this, and it was true. As he stood looking about +him, Wilson Jacobs was happy. He was not happy over +his own success—for Wilson Jacobs did not feel that he +had made the success—but he was happy from the fact +that the young Negro men of that wicked, criminally +torn city, would soon be the recipients of a movement +that would insure a brighter future, less tinged with +degradation and vice.</p> + +<p>Presently he turned, as though responding to a call, +and entered the house. Mildred surmised that he had +been called to breakfast. She turned on her heel, and +went back to the expressman's place, and met him +returning with the things.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[Pg 438]</a></span></p> + +<p>They were all packed. The trunk only required a rope +around it, and it was ready for the station. She instructed +the expressman to this end, and met him at the +depot, where she purchased a ticket for Effingham.</p> + +<p>She strolled outside and to a nearby restaurant, where +she partook of a hearty breakfast, for she was hungry. +She returned to the station, and waited patiently for the +arrival of the train from the north, that would take her +away from the city where she had been for many months. +If it had not fallen to her lot to encounter the man who +had known her back in Cincinnati, she could have left +the city with friends at the depot, and much more ceremoniously; +but she was glad that she was leaving it as +it was. When she had awakened the evening before, she +had, for a moment, felt that she could not leave it without +a terrible pang of conscience.</p> + +<p>The train had arrived, and the people were hurrying +in that direction. She joined them, and, as she was +passing through the gate, she turned for a moment, and +looked into the face of the man who had sent her away +like this. She regarded him without a tremor of fright. +At last she didn't care. A moment later she entered +the car.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[Pg 439]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THREE_4" id="CHAPTER_THREE_4"></a>CHAPTER THREE</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>They Knew He Had Written the Truth</i>"</p> + + +<p>"Yes," said the man, "I knew Sidney Wyeth well. +He was, in fact, a personal friend of mine; and, let me +tell you, Madam, there never was a fellow more interested +in the welfare of his people, from a general point of view, +than the one you inquire about."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!" she echoed, with a pleased smile.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Madam, I speak the truth. My name is Jones," +he said. "I am the editor of the <i>Reporter</i>, and Mr. Wyeth +used to drop into the office here quite often, and talk +with me about the condition of our people in the south. +He was a conscientious fellow, void of pretense, and with +a regard for anyone's point of view. Yes, Wyeth was +a fellow who insisted upon calling a spade a spade, not a +hoe; but there is an element of people here—or was, +rather—before the appearance of an arraignment by +Wyeth, who had only contempt for anyone's opinion +other than their own. Oh, I'll tell you, Miss, you cannot +imagine how this has been worrying me for years. I +have been conducting this paper for some time, and have +struggled to make it a good sheet; but, of course, we +cannot collect from advertising and make our paper pay, +as we would like to see it." He paused a moment, and +then, making himself more comfortable, he fell into a +long conversation, in which, with much fervor, he told +Mildred Latham, whom he had observed was a careful +and appreciative listener, of the conditions Sidney Wyeth +had seen and had written about.</p> + +<p>"The papers told about the success of Wilson Jacobs +in securing a Y.M.C.A. for the town northwest of here, +and God knows how glad I am to see that our people in +the south are coming to appreciate a Christian forward +movement. We have been, in a way, steering in a direc<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[Pg 440]</a></span>tion +that got us nowhere, and that was the way Wyeth +used to discuss it. We have here, and in the town just +mentioned, the worst Negroes under the sun, and yet +counted as civilized people. And it seems to have been +forgotten or overlooked, that our salvation, in a moral +sense, as well as in a practical and progressive, depends +first upon our own initiative. I cannot account for the +selfishness that has so pervaded the lives of our professional +people. Last summer, in a lengthy article, a +Mr. B.J. Dickson, editor of the <i>Attalia Independent</i>, +scored the physicians of that city for a little incident, +that in itself showed a mark of narrowness that few +would or could be brought to believe."</p> + +<p>He then related the article in brief, stating that the +color line had been drawn among the colored people +themselves, and became very much worked up over the +fact that most of the people who had been invited, did +not, as a rule, employ Negro doctors for professional +purposes.</p> + +<p>"I have hinted at the things Mr. Wyeth attacked in +his article, and I have, more than once, pointed to the +evils in our own society; but no one paid any attention. +No, they were too self-opinionated. They could not see +their faults in a Negro paper; but, when it was brought +to their attention on the front page of one of the most +conservative papers conducted by whites in the south, +well, then, it appeared altogether different.</p> + +<p>"They stewed and deplored, became indignant, and all +that; but the truth cannot be played with. With all +the noise that followed the publication of the article, +conscience became a burden. They knew to the last +one, that Sidney Wyeth had written the truth, and +nothing but the truth. And, thanks to God, there were +enough good people to say, when the demagogues were +decrying it, that it was the truth. So now, in this city, +where times are hard, and many people are out of work; +but with plenty of time to think it over, there is in evidence +a decided change, and it is my opinion, that next +summer will see this new idea put into effect—at least +started."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[Pg 441]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So, Mr. Wyeth has located permanently here?" she +inquired, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no," he replied quickly. "I had become so +stirred, when I recalled how much life and appreciation +that article of his had inspired in the order of existence +about here, that I forgot to say that Mr. Wyeth has +left the city. In fact, he left the city immediately after +the appearance of the article."</p> + +<p>She caught her breath, and swallowed with surprise +and disappointment. He had left the city. Where had +he gone to? She was afraid to inquire. But Jones was +speaking again, and saved her the embarrassment of +inquiring.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he left a day or so afterward. He is not likely +to locate in the south. And, moreover, his mission in +these parts is not, I am sure, one of locating or hunting a +location. He appears to be one seeking the truth about +our people." He told her of Wyeth's departure to the +creole city, and then, obviously anxious to unload his +burden of opinions, to which she listened with patient +interest, he continued:</p> + +<p>"I am of the opinion that he will write a book on +these conditions in the near future. And, if it compares +with his article and carries a romance interwoven, it will +meet with public appreciation. He always spoke of his +home out west with much longing, and I suppose that +the atmosphere out there must be of the progressive +spirit, which makes a difference when one is forced to +tolerate the conditions of sluggishness down here."</p> + +<p>"How are the people here on Christian forward work?" +she asked.</p> + +<p>"They had never thought of such a thing until Wyeth +wrote the article, and it was the same in regard to a +library and a park. You see, Madam, it has been like +this," he explained: "Our people have been in the habit +of accepting everything (when it came to uplift) from +the white people as a matter of course, never letting it +worry them, as far as their own efforts were concerned. +Then, again, what few books have been written, with +some exceptions (novels especially, and of which our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[Pg 442]</a></span> +race has produced but few) have dealt with the Negro as +a poor, persecuted character, deserving everybody's sympathy. +In some manner, the authors have been either +careful to avoid his more inherent traits, or they were so +fired with their subject matter, that they forgot it.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Wyeth brought in a couple of books he had sent +for, and which were written by the most successful fiction +writer our race has known. He read them, and pointed +out that only a slight mention was made therein, that +the Negro would lie—'excuse the expression'—and steal, +get drunk, and fight, and kill and gamble to such an +extent, that he would lose his last dollar, and lie out of +paying an honest debt.</p> + +<p>"Anyone who conscientiously knows the Negro, must +certainly be aware of these traits. Why then, should a +writer build a work of the imagination, in which he +seeks to reveal to the reader the white man's hatred for +his black brother, without including in the same statement, +that the Negro has inherent traits, which are some +of the worst evils good society is called upon to endure? +Wyeth judged this was the reason why these books did +not sell and the authors ceased to write, since they could +not work without a living profit.</p> + +<p>"Of course, when we allow ourselves, our thoughts, +rather, to dwell upon the white man's prejudice, we will +surely become pessimists. Who is not aware of it? But +it is the purpose of the practical Negro to forget that +condition as much as possible. To allow our minds to +dwell upon it, and predict what is likely to happen, is +only to prepare ourselves for eternal misery. So far as +I believe, it is my opinion that the white man will always +hate the Negro. It may be argued that it is un-Christianlike, +which is true; but the fact to be reckoned with, +and which remains, is that the white man dislikes Negroes. +But, when we have our own welfare to consider first and +last, it is logical that we turn our energies to a more +momentary purpose.</p> + +<p>"I read Derwins' first book, a work of sociology, and +which met a great sale, and thereby brought him into +public notice. Then I read his late one, a novel, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[Pg 443]</a></span> +which he portrayed the evil of prejudice. Like the +other author I refer to, he built his plot entirely upon +that, leaving the fact that the Negro possesses the +many vices I have mentioned to be understood. Of all +races, the Negro is the most original and humorous. +Those who know him, even the least, look for some +humor. Fancy, then, how people must be disappointed, +when they purchase and read a volume concerning +that race, and find it void of humor! The work of both +these men, like works other than fiction, by Negroes, +is couched in the most select words; but the people look +for what they know to be current. And when they do +not find it, they are likely to lay the book aside, and pick +up something that is more to their taste.</p> + +<p>"And, with all due regard for the writings of these men, +if you read their works carefully, you will discover their +own lack of confidence in the race whose cause they +champion. I will relate a little incident to show this:</p> + +<p>"Follow the romance, and you will find it invariably +centered about a white couple. Why have they done +this? The answer will be, a moral; but, in my opinion, +they could not imagine a Negro character strong enough +to weave into the plot, and, therefore, substituted white +lovers, because, in their imagination, it was more fitting.</p> + +<p>"These men have quit writing, from the fact, that it +did not pay; for, it takes a world of thought, concentrated +upon a certain purpose, to write a novel. Any +man with the ability to put a great thought into words, +and to employ words that are select, in the manner +these men did in their books, could, at least should be, +practical enough to do so in such a manner as to win +an audience that would pay sufficiently for their work to +maintain them. Instead of that, they have both quit +writing. They were sincere, but did the worst possible +thing by quitting. For the quitter never gains anything; +and, when it comes to championing the cause of a people, +the persons who have attempted the same, should certainly +adhere to the task." He paused now, as someone +knocked at the door.</p> + +<p>"Come in," he called.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[Pg 444]</a></span></p> + +<p>A woman, neatly dressed and attractive in appearance, +and apparently intelligent, entered.</p> + +<p>"How do, Mr. Jones," she cried, stretching forth her +hand. Mildred rose to go, but Jones waved her back.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. Langdon," he said kindly, "I am glad to see +you. Be seated." She took a seat. She turned to +Mildred, who looked as though she felt she was intruding, +and said:</p> + +<p>"It is nothing private!"</p> + +<p>She drew from her bag a few sheets of paper, and, +smoothing them out, she handed them to the editor with: +"Here is a little article I have written, in honor of the +young lady who is soon to make her appearance here in +recital, as you know, and which has been well advertised. +I wish to have you publish it in your paper," and then +she smiled sweetly and affected much modesty, as she +added: "It will not be necessary that you mention the +same is written by me."</p> + +<p>"But I wish you to have all that is your due, Mrs. +Langdon," he protested.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well, then," she said, and rising, with a +few more words, she took her leave.</p> + +<p>Jones glanced over the page, and then started. "Excuse +me just a moment, Miss," he begged, and read the pages +which were neatly written and punctuated. When he +had finished, he smiled and said, under his breath: +"That is certainly nerve."</p> + +<p>Mildred regarded him curiously. He looked at her, +and handed the manuscript across the desk, saying: +"Please read it."</p> + +<p>She obeyed, and when she was through, said: "It is +a nice eulogy," and then her face showed the wonderment +because of his expression of a moment ago.</p> + +<p>"Yes," he agreed, "it <i>is</i> nice, but take a glance at +this," and forthwith drew from the top of the desk, a +pamphlet with the picture of an attractive colored girl +thereon.</p> + +<p>Mildred observed the picture, and then read the +article on the other three pages. When she saw the +editor's face again, she understood, but she didn't say,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[Pg 445]</a></span> +in fact, she didn't know what to say. The editor continued:</p> + +<p>"These pamphlets are scattered all over town. Can +you imagine a person with her appearance and obvious +intelligence doing such a thing? And yet, this office is +the recipient of many such instances."</p> + +<p>The article had been copied from the three pages of +the pamphlet he had handed her, and which were scattered +all over the town.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[Pg 446]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FOUR_4" id="CHAPTER_FOUR_4"></a>CHAPTER FOUR</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>The Woman With the Three Moles</i></p> + + +<p>She was now in the creole city. Before her lay the +wide street that Sidney Wyeth had followed; but it was +lighted by the sun, for she had arrived in the morning, +whereas, he had come at night. She traveled with only +a handbag to encumber her, and, therefore, did not take +a car, but walked leisurely up the broad highway.</p> + +<p>The street, she at once observed, was very wide; it +was so wide that the buildings appeared very low that +lined the sides. She counted the stories of one building, +and found that it was not the wide street alone, for the +buildings were not high after all, not nearly so high as +any of the towns in which she had been. She wondered +why they were not; and, of course, it did not occur to +her, that the city was built over water that was only a +few inches from the surface, and which, in fact, seeped +and stood upon the top whenever it could. Keeping the +water below the surface, in short, had been this city's +problem ever since its location. And it is no wonder, +for, if anyone takes notice, the water of the mighty +river (that makes it possible as a port and encircles it +largely) is very often above the town. At several times +in the history of this city's existence, these waters have +become so high, that they threatened for days to spill +over, and, therefore, submerge all the city in a few +minutes. But our story is not concerned with the possible +submerging of the town; we are concerned in +following Mildred Latham, as she walked curiously up +one side of one of its broad highways.</p> + +<p>She wondered, as had Sidney Wyeth—and as perhaps +anyone else given to observation would wonder—that it +should build some streets so wide, and at the same time +make others so narrow that they were not adequate for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[Pg 447]</a></span> +an alley. The buildings, as she saw them, with few +exceptions, were old; only a few had, apparently, been +erected in the past ten years; while over most of the +sidewalks were sheds.</p> + +<p>As she continued her indefinite wandering, she observed +many curiosities, not to be seen in other cities. "But, of +course," she murmured, "this is the creole city, and is +known to be much more historical than the rest of our +country."</p> + +<p>There are not so many colored people encountered on +the streets as in other southern towns; although, viewing +its last census of five years before, there should be +now not less than one hundred thousand of that race +within its limits. She saw many, however, and looked at +them curiously. Here and there was one that looked +like a creole; while most of them, were the usual kind.</p> + +<p>Never had she seen so many cars on one street, as she +saw on the four tracks that ran down the middle of this +one. They were arranged with a curbing to protect, or +keep slim-footed mules out of their way, so they had to +avoid the pedestrians only. Many police protected at +every intersection; but withal, she was nervous as she +hurried across, at the beckon of one who wore the bluest +uniform, and a white hat—no, it was a helmet.</p> + +<p>She had arrived at Basin court, and did not know that +she was within a few doors of the man she loved. She +gazed about for a time, and then went on her way. +She came, presently, abreast of a man—a colored man—and +he was neat looking and intelligent. She paused +with some constraint, and said:</p> + +<p>"Could you advise me, Mister, where I could secure +lodging? I am a stranger, and—I do not know where +to go."</p> + +<p>He looked at her keenly for a moment. Then his eyes +glanced away and down a street that intersected. On +either side of that street were houses—small houses that +made a specialty of a room to the front, and these rooms +contained—but we have not come to that. And then +he looked at her again.</p> + +<p>His eyes wandered back down that other street, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[Pg 448]</a></span> +he thought for a moment. He looked at her again, and +then spoke. This girl might be stalling—so many of +them did—but still she was intelligent, and that made +a difference.</p> + +<p>"I could not, Madam, I regret to say, for I do not +live on this side. My home is in Tunis, which is across +the river. That is why I do not know."</p> + +<p>"Oh," she said, and her tone was sorry, "you do not +live on this side?"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am. You are a stranger here?" He eyed her +keenly again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I have just arrived," and she told him also, +that she sold books.</p> + +<p>Her tone was pleasant; her words were correct; and +she said them in such a way that he forgot his suspicion, +and then showed her forthwith much courtesy.</p> + +<p>"Indeed," he commented. "I wish I knew a place; +but I am not so often on this side, for I am a physician, +and my duties keep me mostly over there; but if you +had happened to be wishing to stop over there, I could +place you." She thought quickly.</p> + +<p>Sidney Wyeth was on this side, undoubtedly. She +might at any time encounter him. And she didn't know +why, since that was what she had hoped for; but she +rather feared to encounter him right now. She had no +room or place to go, and, as she meditated, she could not +see any reason why she should not as soon be on the +other side as on this. She liked quietness. So she said:</p> + +<p>"I had not decided whether I would stay across the +river or here, though, of course, I expected to stay on +this side. I would, however, as soon be on the other +side, I think."</p> + +<p>"In that event, then," said he, "you can accompany +me home, for my wife—we are recently married and she +is a stranger and would be glad of companionship—has a +room, and it is for rent. So, when you have seen it, and +in case you are satisfied, you could have it. The charge, +I think, furnished, is seven dollars a month."</p> + +<p>"That will be nice," she said, and was beside him. +"I am sure I shall be satisfied."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[Pg 449]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thank you," said he, "I am going over now, so if +you are agreeable, we will catch a ferry forthwith."</p> + +<p>They now walked back down the broad highway, at +the end of which could be seen the stacks of many +steamers. He pointed out, very kindly, sights of interest +and explained them.</p> + +<p>"Now, here," he said, "is a store. The family who +own it are rich, as rich as any in the city, and it is said +they are part Negro; though, of course, they do not +admit it. The city, you will find, is a historical old place +in many instances." And as they walked down the +broad highway, he told her a great deal that was so +interesting, that it made the distance which had seemed +a long way an hour before, appear real short. They went +up to the river, and boarded a ferry.</p> + +<p>It was a nice ride to the other shore. Once in the +middle of the river, which was very wide at this point, +the creole city rose and stood outlined in all its splendor. +The waters near either shore were decorated with many +river steamers, and as many, if not more, ocean liners. +Great docks, grim and dark, opened their roller doors +along the banks; while the steamers before them swung +great loads of freight in their cellars.</p> + +<p>"Miss Latham," said the doctor, when they had arrived +at the house, "this is my wife, Mrs. Winnie Jacques."</p> + +<p>They greeted each other, and murmured many words, +and, when the introduction was over, Mrs. Jacques +turned and asked Mildred to follow her. As she did so, +upon her neck, which rose above the loose kimono she wore, +was a mole; to the right of it another. Almost midway +between the two, but an inch below, was another. And +now Mildred Latham gave a start, then she swallowed +hard. <i>Where had she seen the moles before</i>—the three +moles? Only one person in the world, she was sure, +possessed them. She followed the other to a room, and +that night she didn't sleep.</p> + +<p>The next morning she kissed the other, before she left, +but Mrs. Jacques didn't know why. But she watched +her strangely, as she walked toward the ferry.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[Pg 450]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_FIVE_4" id="CHAPTER_FIVE_4"></a>CHAPTER FIVE</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Hello, Brown Skin!</i>"</p> + + +<p>He came abreast of a depot; it was new, with an imposing +front, over which was inscribed TERMINAL +STATION in arched letters. It seemed quite a long +way back to the colored waiting room, and the station +was very narrow. It ran back several hundred feet, +where four or five tracks received the incoming and outgoing +human traffic. The station, like the one he had +come into a short while ago, was filled with men and +women, obviously idlers. He lingered only a few minutes, +when curiosity led him further. He left the station from +the side entrance, and found himself upon a very narrow +street. He paused, and as he did so, strains of ragtime +music came to his ears. He was curious to see where it +came from, and to hear it closer. He crossed the street, +and found that it came from a place—a cabaret—but for +white people only. He turned away and went down the +street, where something odd caught his attention.</p> + +<p>He stood where the walks intersected, and gazed to +his left. Yes, it was a <i>feature</i>. On either side of the +street stood a row of one-story houses. Lights were +bright, as bright as day, on either side, which fact filled +the narrow street with light also. He passed down one +side; and there were multitudes of men sauntering, as +he was—but there were no women, excepting in the one-story +houses. They stood behind open doors, some of +them, while others sat in chairs before a grate fire; +but one and all, he noted, were thinly dressed and smiled +on everybody—but himself (for, you see, they were white +women)—with amorous eyes.</p> + +<p>"Come here dearie," said one—and many others said +the same. "I have something to tell you." "Indeed,"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[Pg 451]</a></span> +he conjectured, "but secrets appear to be the fashion +here."</p> + +<p>He walked to the end of that block, and where that +street intersected with another. And before him, on +eight different sides, was a myriad of the same. Women, +thinly clad—and it, you understand, was the month of +January....</p> + +<p>It was a sight to be indulged; a pastime that was +diverting, to say the least. And, since so very many +others—men—were seeing it, why then not he?</p> + +<p>He saw it—at least a large part of it.</p> + +<p>He strolled another block, and the same sight met his +eye; but, as he got further away from the station, the +lights grew dimmer; the women fewer, but plenty, at +any rate.</p> + +<p>Now he had reached a place where the crowds had not +penetrated—only stragglers lingered like himself—and +where the women were of another race, for now they +were colored.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Brown Skin," they greeted him, and he smiled +back, but didn't stop—not even to hear the secret that +almost everyone had to tell him.</p> + +<p>"You are sure some brown, kid. Just come here a +moment. Don't be afraid, I won't eat you."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," he said to one who was very small, and could +smile with more effect than the others. "But I'm afraid." +And he laughed aloud as he went upon his way.</p> + +<p>He had stopped now. He had to; for, before him was +a brick wall—no, a brick fence. It was painted white +and was about eight or ten feet high; while inside raised +something sinister. "Gee!" he exclaimed. "But that +is a sight one does not appreciate."</p> + +<p>He turned now, and passed down a side street, which +was occupied by the same. But he couldn't forget what +stood grim and determined on the other side. It had +been there a long time too—before, oh, long before these +women had. Yes, and it would be there long after they +had passed away, and others, not yet born, had come to +take their places. And as he passed down the street, +under the subtlety of those night smiles, that place seemed +to say—kept on saying:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[Pg 452]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Play on she cats! Oh, play on! Hell's got your +soul; but I'll have the rest by and by." He turned the +next corner and walked another block, and lo! There +stood another! "Kick high little girl; sin as you please; +Hell's got your hearts, but I'll have what's left—I won't +say how soon...."</p> + +<p>"The devil!" he exclaimed. "This is the worst place +for cemeteries I ever knew. I'm going away from here, +to my room." And he went.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Where do the wealthiest of the wealthy white people +live?" he inquired the next morning, when he had +arisen, and dined at one of the Chinese cafes.</p> + +<p>The others regarded him now with a question in their +eyes. "Yes," he repeated, "where do they live, for it is +to their servants I prefer to try to sell the book, for which +I am agent."</p> + +<p>They caught his logic then, and replied:</p> + +<p>"Take a car at the next corner, ride until you come to +a park that is called d'Ubberville. There you unload, +and find yourself in the midst of the wealthiest of the +wealthy."</p> + +<p>He went down to that street, which was the aforementioned +wide street. All that money could buy, was +on sale along its broad highway. He sought a bookstore, +where he wished to make inquiries, and, of course, +found a number. He strolled about, making inquiries, +until his watch said it was time to return, and go forth +in quest of that part of town, where he wished to begin +his work.</p> + +<p>It was certainly a long way to his destination. Indeed, +he made inquiries of the conductor, until that one told +him he would tell him when they arrived at the place +where he wanted to stop. So, he sat in patience after +that. He allowed his eyes to feast upon the splendor +and magnificence of the beautiful buildings. Yes, they +were elegant homes; they were the finest homes; and +they were beautifully arranged, not to say artistically, +on either side of the street, which, while not the same, +was another one just as wide. So wide, indeed, that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[Pg 453]</a></span> +middle was converted into a lawn, on which many palms +reared their graceful foliage.</p> + +<p>"The creole city," he murmured. "For a long time +I have wished to see it as it really is; to know the people +and to learn of the many things and wonders it is said to +contain."</p> + +<p>"Here you are," said the conductor at last, and Sidney +Wyeth alighted at once.</p> + +<p>"Whew!" he exclaimed, standing entranced, as he +looked all about him. "<i>Such</i> homes; <i>such</i> trees—such +<i>everything</i>." And then he walked in the direction his +face happened to be turned. He was slightly nervous +for a time, but presently, with a bold front, he turned +into the most insignificant of the many houses, and +rapped quietly at the back door.</p> + +<p>"Come in," someone called, and he knew the voice +belonged to one of his race. He had many times thought +it strange, but it was always easy to determine the Negro +by his voice alone.</p> + +<p>He entered, and looked at the owner of that same voice. +She was a stout, brown-skinned woman; and there was +another also, but she was black. One, the large woman, +was the cook, for she worked over the stove, while the +other was obviously the washer-woman, for she was +ironing.</p> + +<p>In his talk, he told the story of the book, and filled +them with enthusiasm, to a point that both subscribed. +He said he was just commencing, and was glad they had +favored him with an order. He thanked them again, +and, turning, he left and betook himself across the street, +where he encountered another brown-skinned woman, but +she failed to buy. And the excuse she gave for not +doing so, was one he always regarded. She was not +able—having other irons in the fire. He left her, went +across the street on another corner, and entered the rear +of the smallest house he saw on the street. He was +turning to go, when another brown-skinned woman put +in her appearance. She was beautiful, he thought. And +she could smile until he—well, she smiled. She said +she'd take one, to be sure, so he wrote down her name,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[Pg 454]</a></span> +and asked her about herself. She was married, and +laughed tantalizingly, though he had not asked her that. +He left presently, by the way he had entered, and went +to another house, and still to another, until the watch +said five; then he betook himself to a car line. It was +not the one he had come out on, and soon he saw other +homes, which showed the creole element.</p> + +<p>That night he went rambling; he couldn't seem to be +still. There was so much to be seen, and it had a peculiar +fascination for him. He went in the direction he had +gone the night before, and met crowds of people. He +strolled until gay music arrested his attention. About +an electric entrance, from which the music came, stood +colored men. He got a peep inside, as some one entered, +and saw that the occupants were Negroes, so he entered.</p> + +<p>A waiter showed him a seat by a table. Around the +room were plenty of others; there were women and men, +and others came and went all the time. The music had +ceased when he entered; but, 'ere long, it struck up, +and the room was filled with the strains. Couples arose +and stood face to face, and did what he had never seen, +as he recalled. The music played was a two-step; but they +did not two-step—at least not the way he had done it +years before. They made only one step where he had +made two. Across the table from where he sat, a girl +smiled upon him invitingly, as much as to say: "Let's +dance!" He was tempted, and then he recalled that they +had begun this dance since he had quit some years +before. So he kept his seat, and she smiled upon another. +He escorted her, and they joined the dancers. A hesitation, +they called it, and he was positive he would—could +never learn it.</p> + +<p>Presently the music stopped, and the couple returned +to their seat.</p> + +<p>"I know you are going to buy me a little drink," she +said, whereupon the man said "nix" and left. She +glared after him, and called him "cheap."</p> + +<p>Wyeth was glad now he had kept his seat. He didn't +like bold women, even in a cabaret, and this was the +first one he had ever entered.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[Pg 455]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was a place for amusements, he soon saw, for, between +dances came songs by many girls and a man or two, +while clever dancing and "ballin' the jack" was a feature; +and it attracted to the performers many nickels, that +they did not hesitate to pick up 'ere they had fallen, and +"balled" again and again, until it seemed their legs +must sure be tired; but you see, they were accustomed +to that.</p> + +<p>"Some town," he said to himself, when he took his +leave. "A good place to forget, to live?" Well, it +seemed that way.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[Pg 456]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SIX_4" id="CHAPTER_SIX_4"></a>CHAPTER SIX</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>"Who're You!" She Repeated</i></p> + + +<p>And now we arrive at the end of the pilgrimage of +Sidney Wyeth. He had ceased his critical observations, +and had secured a room on the fifth floor of an office +building, that was owned and controlled by a Negro +lodge. He began an effort toward the distribution of his +work, that he believed would be successful now, since +he had learned, by contact, the art of reaching his people.</p> + +<p>He placed a large desk in the office, and put a carpet +on the floor; a large table for wrapping purposes to one +side, while upon the door and the windows he had an +artist painter inscribe the letters:</p> + +<p class="center">CRESENT DISTRIBUTORS COMPANY</p> + +<p>"Now, then," he said, "if I can induce someone, here +and there, to go to the people and follow the instructions +I will cheerfully give, I think <i>The Tempest</i> will be placed +into the hands of many people. And to that end, I shall +bend all my energy."</p> + +<p>And thus he began work permanently. He decided to +canvass every afternoon, and to attend to the office and +correspondence in the mornings, until such a time, when +it would not be necessary to do so.</p> + +<p>He filled the country again with circular letters; but +before he had completed this task, he felt an illness pervading +his usual healthy physique. "Biliousness," he +said. "It'll be over in a few days," and he went to work +much harder, in an effort to forget it.</p> + +<p>For days he held it in check by the effort he put forth. +But, as the days came and went, it became harder. He +didn't go to a physician, but waited. But before many +days had passed, however, he became conscious that it +was more serious. So there came a day when he felt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[Pg 457]</a></span> +strangely sick; when he laid down, everything about him +swam; he felt dizzy, but withal, he kept up the fight.</p> + +<p>"I won't give up to it, I won't!" he declared. And +he earnestly tried to overcome it.</p> + +<p>He arose from his desk, and, despite the fact that his +knees trembled and his whole frame quivered, he went +into the street. He felt a mad desire to see this city, +although he had been seeing it every day. So, to the +wide street he went, and boarded a car that took him +around a belt. It brought him back to where he had +entered, and the route was twelve miles long. It led him +through the district where he canvassed, and which was +occupied by the richest. He saw their magnificent homes +this time, strangely. At times his eyes would close, +despite his effort to keep them open. And then, when +he awoke, it was with a nervous start, and he was surprised +each time, to find himself aboard the large cars +that thundered along between rows of the finest houses +in the city.</p> + +<p>He could not interest himself in them now; they +appeared dull and without life. The car came down, +and went through the business district before it came +back again into the wide street. He got off, and almost +fell in doing so. He stood for a time, at a loss to control +himself. He wouldn't go to bed, that was sure; but +where to go, he could not think for a time. Then it +occurred to him to see that place—that place where a +thousand and more women, vandals, were hurrying life +to its end.</p> + +<p>So he walked in that direction, reeling at times, until +some regarded him as if he were drunk. He passed +down a street that was called Bienville. In that neighborhood +it was the broad highway. And it was crowded. +It was then about nine o'clock, and the sidewalks were +filled. The girls were merry—they were always merry, +apparently.... They called to him as before, that is, a +part of them. The others—well, the color line was +drawn here too, and white men came first.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Brown Skin," smiled one he had not seen before, +and winked. He regarded her for a moment strangely.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[Pg 458]</a></span> +She took it as an evidence of encouragement. She +beckoned to him vigorously, and <i>promised</i> so very much. +He turned, and before him rose one of the ghostly, silent +places—the cemetery. It aroused him, for a time, from +his apparent lethargy. He looked at it, and thought +how strange it was this city had so many. And they +were always silent—waiting, waiting, waiting.</p> + +<p>He shuddered and moved away from it, and in a +direction that he had not been. On all sides the girls +were gay that night. He went around a block, ignoring +invitations. His brain was clear for awhile, and he +thought: "Who located such a place?" A place where +each day someone died and went to hell! But, as he +thought the more, he concluded that dying was not +necessary. It was a living death....</p> + +<p>"Come in, Brown Skin, not a man has been here tonight." +He looked up, and in the doorway stood a +woman. She was tall and slender, and brown. She +smiled with an effort, he could see, for, in truth, the +woman was hungry.</p> + +<p>"I'm hungry," she faltered, "and that's on the square. +The landlord took every dime I made last night, for rent +this morning. Not a bite have I eaten this day. Every +day he calls early for his rent. Business is rotten—everybody's +broke; but he must have his rent, or out into +the street I go." She paused and looked tired, and +then went on: "I'm so weak. I'd slip out of this hell +hole, and try to make an honest living, but I have +no clothes, and besides, I'm afraid that while I was +gone, he might come along and turn the lock, and carry +the key with him. And too, the bulls are filling the +streets tonight, and fly cops are everywhere. So I +might be arrested, and go t' jail. I don't like that place +up there." And she sighed a long drawn, weary sigh.</p> + +<p>"Why would you be arrested?" he inquired, speaking +for the first time.</p> + +<p>"Why would I be arrested?" she exclaimed. "You +must not know the rules of this district," she cried. +"Why, we are not allowed to leave it. When we enter +this, we agree to stay!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[Pg 459]</a></span></p> + +<p>"To stay?" he echoed.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she replied. "To stay...." He followed her +gaze. She was not aware of what she saw, no doubt; +but he was. Before her gaze rose gray, grim and sinister, +one of those places—the abode of dead things. Yes, +and it was waiting, silently waiting. He turned and +regarded the woman. She was quiet. A man came by +crying:</p> + +<p>"Hot sandwiches—hot tamales—five cents apiece!"</p> + +<p>He saw her gazing at them with eyes that were dry, +but hungry.</p> + +<p>"Here," he cried, "with your sandwiches." And then +turned to her:</p> + +<p>"Take as many as you want. All you can eat tonight, +and some for tomorrow!"</p> + +<p>Her eyes widened. She beheld him now with wonder. +"Do you mean it?" she whispered, in a subdued voice.</p> + +<p>He nodded, and handed the man a half dollar.</p> + +<p>She ate ravenously, while he watched. Presently he +started, while she watched him strangely, as if he were +something unearthly. He turned suddenly, and came back +to where she stood. He ran his hand into his pocket, +and drew forth three silver dollars. "Here," he said, and +a moment later he was gone.</p> + +<p>She stood transformed, and then, dreamlike, she cried +after him:</p> + +<p>"God bless you!"</p> + +<p>Back toward his room he now walked, and at times +stumbled. But all the way the words of that woman +rang in his ears: "God bless you!" "God," he murmured, +"do You know these people? Are You acquainted +with these women who are sinning? They don't know +You! Their souls are burning now in hell!" He didn't +know the direction he was going, nor did he hear the +invitations; but soon he came to one of those walls, and +looked up. Yes, they were inside.... Those who had +known this life in the infinite long ago. And they were +waiting for those others....</p> + +<p>"Brown Skin," he now heard, and then much gayety +followed; but he looked up and saw the others, who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[Pg 460]</a></span> +were likewise waiting. "Sin on little girl. Satan's got +your soul, and you'll burn in hell some day."</p> + +<p>He went a block where, on one side the gray silence +greeted him, while on the other gay life was the order.</p> + +<p>"Come in boy, I've something to tell you." But +Sidney Wyeth made no answer; all the while he could +feel that silent spectre, the grave. And it seemed to say: +"We are waiting, waiting, waiting."</p> + +<p>He went now in the direction of his room, and as he +went along, the gray court kept telling him: "These are +mine—all of them. And, do you know, they come to me +each day. Oh, they are gay—now! The devil's got +their souls, but I always get the rest. Meanwhile I am +waiting, patiently waiting."</p> + +<p>Gay music came from the doors of a cabaret, and he +saw it was for colored people. White people were not +allowed within. He entered. The accustomed crowd +lined the walls. The same girls came each night—he now +saw. They welcomed those who wished for drinks, +which came at fifteen cents apiece; a half of which +they received at the end of the night, and that was how +they lived.</p> + +<p>He avoided them. On the floor were the dancers. +The music was inspiring, and "balling the jack" was the +order. A rain of nickels came down upon them, and they +quit only when they were exhausted.</p> + +<p>He was awakened by a waiter, at the table where he +had fallen asleep. So he ordered a drink, gulped it down +with an effort, and took his leave. He emerged, and had +walked a few steps, when someone touched him. He +looked down into the face of the woman who had been +hungry.</p> + +<p>"Who're you?" she said. "<i>Who're you?</i>" she repeated, +"to feed a starving wench and ask nothing. Don't look +at me so strangely. I followed you. I saw you enter there. +I would have followed you in; but they don't allow <i>us</i> +in there.... They don't allow us anywhere but—oh, well, +I didn't come to tell you my troubles. And then," she +added, "I wouldn't wish to disgrace you by having +others see; but won't you come back?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[Pg 461]</a></span></p> + +<p>He gazed down into her eyes and saw the truth therein. +"A lost soul.... Yes, a lost soul." And then something +within him seemed to burst. The world about him +became a maze of darkness, and he knew no more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[Pg 462]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_SEVEN_4" id="CHAPTER_SEVEN_4"></a>CHAPTER SEVEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>At Last, Oh Lord, At Last!</i>"</p> + + +<p>Mrs. Ernestine Jacques very soon became devoted to +her roomer, Mildred Latham. She told her husband as +much when she had been in the house a few days.</p> + +<p>"She's a delightful girl, a fine companion, and I am +glad she made inquiry of you in regard to lodging."</p> + +<p>"I am pleased to hear it," said her husband. "I am +glad to have found you a companion, and now you won't +miss me so much, will you?"</p> + +<p>"Of course, I will," she pouted. "I didn't mean that," +she said. "But women, you know, seem to require +friends, even when they have the best husbands in the +world."</p> + +<p>We leave them at this point, and return to the subject +of their conversation, who had begun a canvass in the +sale of Wyeth's book, and had met with success, which is +neither unusual nor strange, since it depends upon the +efforts of the worker.</p> + +<p>She estimated that he would confine his work to the +aristocratic section, where the multitude of servants +were, so she decided to try the colored people in their +homes, to begin with. Therefore, from one she learned +of others, until she had a list of people whom she worked +among, and with excellent results. She became an +attendant of the Methodist church, where she met +many, and made acquaintances that increased the success +of her work. And thus her life flowed serenely along, +uneventful for many weeks. But she had not seen or +heard of the one she sought, although, in the course of +time, she came across the book, and knew it had been +bought from him.</p> + +<p>It rained at times, until whole days were lost, for it +was too wet to enter nice homes. She stayed in her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[Pg 463]</a></span> +room at these times, and talked with Mrs. Jacques as +little as possible, although she longed to do so very +much. She was glad to see, as the time went on, that +the two were devoted to each other. Dr. Jacques was a +good man, and was even a better husband.</p> + +<p>"Some day," she sighed, "maybe I'll be like that." +She pondered now for some time.</p> + +<p>Mildred had reached no decision, as yet, in regard to +her plans. She was nervous, at times, on the street, +fearing she might meet Sidney. She worked hard to +occupy herself, and thus it went along, until she had +gotten her work well under way.</p> + +<p>"Have you ever been up in the Perier building?" +a lawyer, who purchased a book, inquired of her.</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I have not. Where is that, and are there +colored people about it?" she said.</p> + +<p>"Yes, ma'am. It is a building occupied and owned by +Negroes. There are a great many people located in it +who would buy the book, I am sure," he informed her. +"I would advise you to go."</p> + +<p>"I thank you ever so much, indeed," she cried gratefully. +"I shall go there tomorrow."</p> + +<p>The next day was a beautiful one; the air was fragrant +with the perfume of roses, and the birds sang, seemingly, +everywhere.</p> + +<p>"A storm of some proportion will reach this place +before night," said Dr. Jacques. "A day that begins as +this one, always ends that way!"</p> + +<p>"My husband is a weather prognosticator," commented +his wife, humorously. Mildred smiled knowingly +from across the table.</p> + +<p>"And you have been very successful with your work, +Miss Latham?" said he, surveying her appreciatively.</p> + +<p>"Oh, very much so. But it has been so elsewhere." +She told him of her work in the city she had just left.</p> + +<p>"It was a strange coincidence," said he, "how they +came to secure the Y.M.C.A. in that town. I keep +myself pretty well informed regarding uplift among our +people, and it was truly a delight when I read, that, at +almost the last minute, money that was lacking, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[Pg 464]</a></span> +necessary to fulfil the requirements, was brought to +hand.</p> + +<p>"It was too bad Grantville failed in the effort to secure +theirs. And they wanted it so badly," the doctor continued. +"I attended school in that city, and always have +a warm spot in my heart for the place."</p> + +<p>"Well, dear," said his wife, "how did they come to +fail in the effort in Grantville, and succeeded in this +other town? I understood you to say that Grantville +had a much more intelligent set of colored people, and +more progressive."</p> + +<p>"So it has! So it has!" he said quickly; "but by +some strange coincidence, the money necessary to complete +the arrangement, was brought forward at almost +the last minute. Otherwise, they had acknowledged +failure."</p> + +<p>"I wonder where the money came from?" she mused.</p> + +<p>"I suppose I must be going about my work," said +Mildred, rising. "I am going to canvass the Perier +building today. I have been told there are many offices +occupied by persons who might buy."</p> + +<p>"Most assuredly," said the doctor. "There are many +I am sure." He was thoughtful a moment, and then +continued: "Our people in this town are not possessed +with that race spirit which it is claimed Negroes have in +other cities. They are accused of lacking unity; but, +in spite of that, when one applies himself to the task +with patience and fortitude, enough of the spirit can be +aroused to make work like yours remunerative. But, +nevertheless, I am often distressed when I realize, that +we haven't a first class local race paper here; for, without +one, it is impossible to reach the people—the colored +people—through advertising, unless a high rate is paid +in the columns of the white paper, and that is not +practical."</p> + +<p>"Are you much acquainted in the building?" Mildred +inquired.</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, I know everybody—that is, almost everybody. +The last time I was over there, I observed that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[Pg 465]</a></span> +an office had been taken by one who is a stranger to me; +and I observed, also, that he appeared to be studious, +so it might be worth while to see him too."</p> + +<p>She thanked him, kissed his wife, and a few minutes +later, her steps died away in the distance.</p> + +<p>"Dear," said Mrs. Jacques, "don't you know that +she reminds me of someone I knew a long time ago. +But who it was, where it was, I do not know; but I +always feel queer when she kisses me."</p> + +<p>"You're becoming fanciful," he smiled, lighting a +cigar.</p> + +<p>They talked about other subjects, and Mildred was, +for the time, forgotten.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"A story of the northwest, by a Negro pioneer, eh?" +said a man, upon whose office door was written: <i>Real +Estate, Loans and Renting</i>. "M-m. Looks like a good +book. Negroes don't write many books, although there +are a great many that come the rounds about Negroes, +but gotten up by whites with a sketch about Tom, Dick +and Harry, and exaggerated estimates of the Negro. +So, in view of the fact, I guess you may put me down +for a copy, and deliver it next week."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir," she said, as she wrote his name, +and the date of delivery.</p> + +<p>"Having much success?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"A great deal, I am glad to say," she replied pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"Glad to hear that. There are always readers to be +found, if one looks for them; but, on the whole, the +people of this town have not much of a literary turn of +mind."</p> + +<p>"Indeed!"</p> + +<p>"No, it is such a care-free, happy-go-lucky place, that +not all the people who should, try to concentrate themselves +in reading." He was quiet and thoughtful for a +moment, and then said: "Have you tried many of the +school teachers?"</p> + +<p>"A great many," she said.</p> + +<p>"And how did you find them?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[Pg 466]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, just fair. I sold to a few of them."</p> + +<p>"A few of them, eh! It would seem they should +welcome the fact that Negroes are beginning to write +books."</p> + +<p>"Obviously, yes."</p> + +<p>"And the preachers?"</p> + +<p>"They buy; but some of them dislike to, so much so, +that I have dispensed with going to them."</p> + +<p>"And the physicians?"</p> + +<p>"They are very nice." She didn't say how nice, and +he didn't ask, so it ended there.</p> + +<p>She went from one office to another, and almost all +purchased. Some out of real interest, while others subscribed +merely through courtesy to her, and from the +fact that it was rare to meet colored people selling, or +trying to sell anything.</p> + +<p>She had completed the third floor, and was ascending +to the fourth, when the then overcast skies became +darker and rain began falling fitfully. She made all the +offices on that floor with her usual success, and started +upon the fifth. Twilight was gathering, and, with the +darkness from the clouds, lights were soon aglow.</p> + +<p>She had made the fifth and was just passing to the +elevator, when she chanced to spy an office that she had +overlooked, and, in that moment, she recalled the doctor's +statement about the stranger. The office was at the +end of the hall—a hall that was not much used, evidently. +Mildred observed, as she approached, that the door was +slightly ajar. She knocked lightly, and then, receiving +no invitation, pushed the door open and entered.</p> + +<p>A man sat at the other side of the room, and he seemed +to be sick, or asleep—at least he lay with face downward +across the desk, at which he sat. She approached +him, disregarding his apparent lethargy, and when she +had offered a greeting, and he had raised himself slightly, +she told him the story of the book.</p> + +<p>He was sick, she soon saw, and she felt sympathetic. +She bathed his head—his forehead—with a damp towel; +then she inquired if he felt better, and looked for the +first time into his face.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[Pg 467]</a></span></p> + +<p>"At last, oh Lord, at last!" she cried, in a subdued +voice, as she bounded down the steps. "I have found +him, I have found him!" She walked hurriedly on her +way to the street, and did not wait or think of the elevator +that would have saved her strength. When she was on +the street, she hurried through the rain—for it was +pouring now—and did not stop until the ferry had been +reached.</p> + +<p>Once aboard this, she hid herself in the darkest place +she could find, and there, as the paddle of the propeller +came to her ears, she cried: "Sidney, my Sidney, I have +found you. And never, never, until the end of the +world will I be far from you—Oh, my love!"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[Pg 468]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_EIGHT_4" id="CHAPTER_EIGHT_4"></a>CHAPTER EIGHT</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>"Well, I'm Going!" And She Went</i></p> + + +<p>"Typhoid-pneumonia," said the physician, rising from +over the patient, who had just been brought to the +hospital.</p> + +<p>Sidney Wyeth, unconscious, was carried at once to the +section of the great hospital reserved for patients with +contagious diseases.</p> + +<p>"What do you think of it, doctor? Is it a serious +case, or just a light attack?" inquired one of the assistants, +who was making a specialty of a study of fever.</p> + +<p>"Serious," was the reply, "very serious. He will be +lucky if he is able to pull through."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"I just missed you, Miss Latham," said Dr. Jacques, +coming in a few minutes after Mildred had entered the +house.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I am sorry! We could have come over +together," she exclaimed, smothering her excitement for +the time, and smiling regretfully, when he had told her +that he was in the Perier building just before she left.</p> + +<p>"Were you very successful with the people in the +building?" he inquired pleasantly.</p> + +<p>"I received eleven orders there today."</p> + +<p>"Too bad the young man, the stranger, took sick. +You might have gotten a dozen," he said.</p> + +<p>"Who took sick?" she inquired, with a start.</p> + +<p>"The young man I spoke to you about this morning," +explained the physician. "He was carried from the +building shortly after you left, with a serious attack of +typhoid-pneumonia." He was standing with his back +to her when he said this, and, therefore, did not see her +start and open her mouth. She swallowed the exclamation, +and he was no wiser. Hurrying to her room, she<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[Pg 469]</a></span> +entered, locked the door, and sat down with a wild look +in her eyes, plainly frightened.</p> + +<p>"Sick," she mumbled. "Typhoid-pneumonia. Oh, +merciful God!" She was silent then for a long time. +Outside, the rain continued to fall, while in the other +rooms she could hear Mrs. Jacques singing softly, as she +busied herself in the preparation of the evening meal.</p> + +<p>"If I had only known," Mildred whispered to herself. +And then she was compelled to dismiss what she was +thinking of, as being impractical. She continued to sit +and meditate, until she was called to supper by Ernestine. +She arose and bathed her face, realizing it would be advisable +to appear unconcerned, for, as she now estimated, +she would dislike to be questioned.</p> + +<p>When the meal was over, she inquired of the physician +where the patient had been taken.</p> + +<p>"To the charity hospital," he replied.</p> + +<p>"I see," she said calmly. "Is that a good place?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, the best in the south. The Sisters of Mercy have +it largely in charge, and they give the best possible care +to all patients—black or white."</p> + +<p>She went to her room, slightly relieved, and fell at +once to planning.</p> + +<p>The fact that he had taken an office, was self-evident +that he was preparing some extensive campaign with +regard to his book. As it stood now, whatever he had +been arranging would stop at once.</p> + +<p>It was late that evening when she retired. But, +before sleep came to her eyes that night, she had decided +upon a course of action.</p> + +<p>Mildred arose early, dressed, heated some tea, and ate +a light lunch. Then she threw on a dress, hurried out of +the house and down to the ferry. An hour later, she was +at the hospital.</p> + +<p>"I called, beg pardon," she began, "to inquire about +a patient who was brought here last evening, and who, +I understand, was stricken with typhoid-pneumonia. +His name is Sidney Wyeth, and he is a colored man."</p> + +<p>After a moment, in which the record was consulted, +the informant turned to her and said: "Sidney Wyeth,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[Pg 470]</a></span> +a colored man, serious attack of typhoid-pneumonia. In +the ward of contagious diseases. Cannot be seen, Madam, +I regret to say."</p> + +<p>"Indeed—ah,—did you say—it—was—quite serious?" +she inquired, tremulously.</p> + +<p>"Quite serious, Madam. Quite serious."</p> + +<p>"There is no doubt, however—ah, that he will recover?"</p> + +<p>"We are not allowed to give out information of that +nature. He may recover, and still he may not; but we +cannot say."</p> + +<p>"Just another question, sir," she said hesitatingly. +"About how long would it be, in case he should recover, +before he will likely be on the street?"</p> + +<p>"Cases as serious, and of that nature, rarely leave the +hospital under two months, possibly three, and sometimes +it is even four; but, if he should recover, it would +not be possible under two months."</p> + +<p>"Very well, I thank you," and, bowing, she left the +desk.</p> + +<p>Mildred walked down the wide street upon which the +hospital faced. She had not consulted any one else, and +in truth, had no idea that the disease would last so long.</p> + +<p>"What can I do, what can I do?" she asked herself +several times, as she passed down the street. "He has +just started up, and to think that such a misfortune +should overtake him at the outset."</p> + +<p>She walked on down the street, until she arrived at +the corner, where she paused for a moment. She turned, +and only a block away rose the Perier building. She +could see his office. It was toward the rear, and, as she +stood looking up at it meditatively, she caught an outline +of the desk at which he had sat, when she came +into the office, with no thought that she was near him.</p> + +<p>"I am going up there, to the custodian of that building, +and—well, I'm going," and she went.</p> + +<p>"Are you the custodian of the building, sir?" she +inquired a few minutes later, of an elderly man with a +pointed beard and cleverly trimmed mustache.</p> + +<p>"I am, Madam," he replied. "And at your service."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[Pg 471]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A gentleman, who has recently taken an office here, +was yesterday stricken with typhoid-pneumonia, and +was taken to the charity hospital."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Madam, so he was," acknowledged the other. +"Too bad. He took the office only a short time ago, +and seemed to be a very progressive young man. You +are acquainted with him?" he asked, observing the +worried look upon her face.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. I am acquainted with him."</p> + +<p>"Indeed! I suppose you are a relative or a close +friend," he said, and then paused before proceeding. +"His office is open—that is, no one is there to attend to +it, and he seems to be the recipient of considerable mail, +I have observed. So, if you are interested in his affairs, +you may have the key and look after the matter, if you +wish too." He was very cordial, and the fact saved her +from explaining what she had in view when she entered.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she said, "I am interested in his affairs, and +it is very kind of you to make the suggestion. In truth, +it was on his account that I called here. I should be +glad to look after his business while he is indisposed," +she ended bravely and kept her face straight.</p> + +<p>The custodian gave her the keys, and a few minutes +later, she found herself in the small office, looking curiously +and guiltily about.</p> + +<p>She assorted the mail, and then, going through +what had been opened, she soon got an idea of his plans. +Being engaged in this same work, it was easy for her to +collect the broken threads, and resume his task. She +carefully opened the mail that had come that day, and, +a moment later, was typing replies to a score or more, +in the manner he would have done, had providence +given him the opportunity.</p> + +<p>She worked late that evening, and neglected to canvass +at all, although it was a beautiful day.</p> + +<p>She saw, by the copy in one of the drawers, that he +was advertising for agents, and in an apparently successful +way. Now, it had occurred to her before, that white +people preyed upon Negroes as agents, and, moreover, +from her own experience, she had come to realize that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[Pg 472]</a></span> +they would (white agents) attempt to sell anything, if +inducements were made that seemed plausible.</p> + +<p>When she was in her room alone that night, she did +some more planning, some figuring, and some estimating. +In the end, she decided to take the risk.</p> + +<p>Being a business woman had always appealed to her +fancy, and the work was, to her, a most absorbing +diversion. She had learned how to operate a typewriter +when she attended school, and was very clever at shorthand +also, could keep books with proficiency, and was +now glad she had learned these things, although, until +she had taken up the sale of the book, she had had no +occasion to use her ability.</p> + +<p>The following day, she arrived at the office at eight +o'clock sharp, and went to work at once. When the mail +came, she was cheered to receive twenty dollars in the +same, and also, to note three orders from agents, who +were selling the book in other cities. She attended to +all this, the packing and shipping of the books, wrote +replies to all letters, including some of encouragement to +those who were succeeding.</p> + +<p>She had lunch at a nearby cafe, and returned to +work immediately. She then made up a list of carbon +copies, which she mailed before going home, to several +newspapers all over the country, inclosing a money order +in each to cover the cost of insertion.</p> + +<p>"And now," she sighed, "I am happy. I feel better +than I have felt for some time...." She closed her +eyes meditatively, and thought of him. Would he survive? +Typhoid-pneumonia was a dreadful disease, and +she was considerably worried. When she retired that +night, she prayed a long prayer, and went to sleep with +a smile upon her lips, at peace with the world, and with +hopes for the best.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[Pg 473]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_NINE_4" id="CHAPTER_NINE_4"></a>CHAPTER NINE</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>I Hope You—Won't—Won't be Angry</i>"</p> + + +<p>"We cannot give out information as to the condition +of the patient, Madam," said the informant at the +hospital, when Mildred had called to inquire regarding +the condition of her lover. She turned wearily away, +and went back to the office.</p> + +<p>She was anxious to know the worst, if it came to that, +and was worried daily, until she could not restrain the +desire to visit the hospital each morning, before she +went about the duties she had preempted.</p> + +<p>"He is not dead," she whispered to herself, "and if +I go each day, I can work with my mind at peace; +whereas, I would surely go crazy, if I were compelled to +go along, and not know whether he is living or dead."</p> + +<p>Two weeks passed and he still lived, and at the end +of that time, she was advised at the hospital, that recovery +was expected, but that he would be, in all likelihood, +unable to leave the hospital under two months from +that date.</p> + +<p>She went to the office that day in the highest spirits, +and was especially cheered to find a pile of letters in +answer to the advertisements. Replies were many during +the following days. In due course of time, she had +secured a large number of agents, and a greater portion, +upon following her instructions, were successful. Orders +for books began to fill the office, and after she had been +in charge of the office a month, she was pleased to see +that she was actually succeeding. Each mail brought +money and express orders, and then, the work being too +heavy for one, she looked about for a stenographer to +help her. She was successful in securing a very intelligent +girl, a creole, with French ways and a command of that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[Pg 474]</a></span> +tongue which, at times, especially when excited, conflicted +with her English to a degree that was amusing.</p> + +<p>As the days went by, business increased, until at the +end of six weeks, more than a thousand dollars was +finding its way to the office each week. Mildred was +encouraged, she was delighted. She deposited the money +to his credit in a savings account, and used only what +was necessary for expenses and for her own living. She +became so enthusiastic over the same, that she almost +forgot he would return, and then—but she got no further.</p> + +<p>"He will be able to leave the hospital in two weeks, +possibly ten days," the informant advised her the last +day she called, which was eight weeks after he had +taken sick. It was only then that she became fully +appreciative of the position she held. She now became +uneasy, as, after thinking it over for some time, she +was unable to decide what to do. The business was now +so heavy, that it was impossible to be away from it; +money came in each mail, and sometimes in large sums, +while orders and inquiries for the agency, kept her +dictating letters for hours each day. She permitted herself, +that day and other days that followed, to become +the heroine in a wild dream. She saw him well, which +he would be soon, and she fancied how much she could +help him. But always, when she recalled the past, there +came a choking, and she would turn desperately to her +work in order to forget.</p> + +<p>"And yet," she said to herself one day—and that was +only a few days before he was expected to return—"I +must do something. I cannot sit here and allow him +to walk in upon me, because—he, oh, I'm afraid he +might resent it."</p> + +<p>One morning the mail was heavier than usual, because +it was Monday, and Saturday had been a holiday. +Springtime had come, with its time of blossom, and the +air was fragrant. She hummed a little tune and was +happy that day; happier than she had been for a long +time. She went about the great amount of work with a +calmness and precision, that resulted in finishing it +before five o'clock. Ordinarily, there was enough to +have kept them busy until the next day noon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[Pg 475]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, Katherine," she said to the stenographer, "we +have been very industrious today, and I am going to +bring you something nice tomorrow. You are very +helpful," and with a quick impulse she kissed the other, +who returned it as affectionately.</p> + +<p>In that moment, she almost felt inclined to tell the +girl the burden that was upon her, but she thought +better of it quickly, and, with a kind word, she turned +to her desk, and for a time listened to the other's footstep +in the hallway, where she moved occasionally, while +waiting for the elevator.</p> + +<p>From a drawer she took some letters, and glanced +over them reflectively. They were letters from a girl +she recognized in the story, and from their tone, she surmised +that the other had once loved him. That love, +however, had changed in the course of events, and now +they were only friends.</p> + +<p>She sat for a long time and gazed dreamily out over +the city, and then, suddenly, it occurred to her, that she +was sitting in the same position he had occupied, when +she had entered his office almost ten weeks before. She +stirred uneasily. At that moment a step sounded in +the hall, and came in the direction of the office. It +paused a minute outside the door, and then it was opened, +and some person stood on the threshold.</p> + +<p>It was getting dark, and as the man paused, she +observed that he looked about the office strangely—doubtfully. +In so far as he knew, he had felt the office was a +thing of the past, and at this moment he muttered: +"Hump. Guess someone else is in this place." Presently, +with another muttering, he came toward the window. +Mildred sat stupified, and seemed unable to move any +part of her body. She felt strangely paralyzed. When +he got near the middle of the room, he suddenly bethought +himself of the light, and turning, he went to the wall, +where the switch was located, and pressed the button.</p> + +<p>She had rearranged the office, that is, she had added +to the number of lights, since there were only two bulbs +when she came. Now there were six. Over the desk set +one, and it had a reflector. When he pressed the button,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[Pg 476]</a></span> +the room became instantly illuminated by the bright +rays, while the one on the desk reflected full into her +face.</p> + +<p>She said something and turned her face, while he gave +a start and cried:</p> + +<p>"You!"</p> + +<p>The next moment, he fell back and observed her +strangely. She sat as he had found her, with head +lowered and heart thumping violently. He advanced +after a pause, and stood close to her, regarding her with +a look that was stranger still. He appeared to be at a +loss what to say or do; then he raised his hand to his +forehead, while his gaze was one of utter blankness. It +occurred to her then, that he might be impaired in some +way, after such a severe illness. So, with an effort, she +rose boldly from the chair, and facing him, said:</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is I, Sid—Mr. Wyeth." She was compelled, +by the thumping of her heart, to hesitate for a moment, +and then she continued, more calmly: "I have made +bold to come here during your illness, and—and—take +charge of your work. I hope," she was now faltering, +while he was regarding her without understanding, from +the expression he wore. And—oh! She saw it now. +He was regarding her with disfavor. A frown played +about his lips that appeared drawn and thin, while his +eyes gradually changed until they were openly hostile—contempt +almost could be read. She turned her eyes +away.</p> + +<p>This was her reward. She choked. Her brain became +a whirl for a moment. She had tried to help him, and +had succeeded. She had thought of it in that way; +she now strangely realized that she had not expected +any thanks—indeed, she had never thought of anything +but to make the business a success. And, she was positive, +that she had not expected any reward.</p> + +<p>She was saying something. She was not fully aware +what it was, and her head hung down, while her eyes +sought the floor, instead of his face with the hostile +expression.</p> + +<p>"I hope you—won't—won't be angry!" With a great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[Pg 477]</a></span> +effort, during which she felt he was regarding her in the +same critical manner, although she was careful not to +glance into his face, she explained briefly what had +transpired during his absence. "And so," she concluded, +"here is everything drawn down to date," and with +that, she suddenly caught up her light coat, drew her +turban hat over her head, and went toward the door.</p> + +<p>As she did so, she was aware that he had turned and +was looking after her. She paused when she reached +the door, and thought of his illness. He might take sick +again. She saw his eyes now for a brief moment, and +they were upon her. She could not read them altogether, +but it seemed as if the hostility was gone, and a +look that bordered on appeal had taken its place. Her +gaze lingered kindly, and then she said:</p> + +<p>"You are ill—have been. Please be careful." And, +in spite of the effort it cost her to say it, she added: +"I will come again tomorrow," and was gone.</p> + +<p>All that night she tossed and tumbled in her little bed +in Tunis. And when morning came, she dropped off to +sleep. Mrs. Jacques called her, and then came to the +room and knocked at the door. Presently, she ventured +to open it slightly. Mildred was snoring peacefully.</p> + +<p>"She's tired, poor thing. Very tired." She looked at +her again. Her face was upturned and her throat was +exposed. A beautiful brown throat. She crossed the +room easily to where she lay, gazed down at her for a +moment, and became conscious again of that same +feeling that had been haunting her since she knew her. +She stopped presently, and drew the lace night dress +down a bit. The next moment she recoiled in fright.</p> + +<p>"At last, oh God! At last I have found her! My +sister!" The other stirred. Light shown brightly through +the window, for it was seven-thirty, and the sun was +climbing. But Mildred Latham was tired, and was +snoring again in calm repose. The other bent over her. +She kept from putting her arms about her with much +effort, and then kissed her lips fondly.</p> + +<p>She stood a few feet away, and regarded her with a +heavenly feeling, and then, drawing the blind until the +room was fully dark, she left her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[Pg 478]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TEN_4" id="CHAPTER_TEN_4"></a>CHAPTER TEN</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>Vellun Parish—Jefferson Bernard</i></p> + + +<p>Sidney Wyeth sat for a long time at his desk after he +had looked through the statement before him. He could +not for some time understand how it had all come about. +He had been carried from the office unconscious ten weeks +before, and during that time, or when he had come back +into his senses after many weeks, he had concluded that +his effort, which had not gone very far, was doomed to +die, and had resigned himself to the inevitable. Now +before him was a statement, which showed that more +than a thousand dollars was finding its way to the office +each week, in excess of the cost of the books. More +than five thousand dollars was to his credit in a local +bank. What miracle had been wrought to make such a +profit in so short a time—or any time at all? It had +taken him two years to reach a fourth edition of this +book, while now the copies before him stated ninth edition. +How had it all happened?</p> + +<p>There was but one answer, and that was, Mildred +Latham.</p> + +<p>He lived over again the years of the past. He saw her +as he had met her on that first day. He recalled her +patience and appreciation, while he explained to her the +contents of the book, and the order she had given. He +remembered the dance and the kiss, with a strange pang +of the heart. In all his days, no kiss had seemed like +that. And the look in her eyes afterward. Was that +love? Surely that was life. If God, our Creator, made +that possible, then life was worth the effort. He became +so absorbed in his reflections, that he started when he +recalled his last visit.</p> + +<p>After that it was different. But for that—but he had +worried himself sick, and had succeeded in forgetting it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">[Pg 479]</a></span> +and her until the day he took sick. He was too weak and +torn by the illness to think about the matter, while he +lay on his back in the hospital. But when convalescence +had set in, he had thought of it almost constantly. Try +as he would, he had been unable to understand how it all +happened. He pondered over it until he entered the office +an hour ago, and now it was all plain.</p> + +<p>"Who is this girl?" he asked himself. "What is she?" +he demanded. "She has always puzzled me." But, at +the end of it all, the old hag on the steps, with the words +she had spoken, rose again before him, and he forgot—he +felt he was compelled to forget, all the rest.</p> + +<p>He got up, after a time, and walked about the office. +He felt tired, and in view of her success, and of the circumstances +surrounding it, he would go somewhere and +rest, until he had thought it all out. But of one thing he +was certain, and that was he must never see her again. +He could love her; he could do anything within his +power for her—he was only too glad to; but he felt he +could never forget the few words he had heard a long +time ago.</p> + +<p>So he wrote a letter to the effect that he had gone away, +but he did not state where.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Oh, I have overslept myself dreadfully," cried +Mildred, entering the kitchen where the other worked +away in silence.</p> + +<p>"I started to awaken you, and you were resting +so quietly, that I desisted," Mrs. Jacques replied, regarding +her with a fond glance that the other did not +understand.</p> + +<p>"I must hurry, for, of all mornings, this is the very one +I would not have been late for anything," and she +hurried through her breakfast and was turning to go, +when the other came up, threw her arms about her impulsively, +and kissed her long and lingeringly upon the lips. +Mildred returned the embrace, but she did not understand +the expression in the eyes of the other, as she took +her leave.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[Pg 480]</a></span></p> + +<p>She arrived at the office, and was surprised to find only +Katherine working away on the books.</p> + +<p>"Has—ah, any one been here?" she inquired, after +waiting to hear something from the lips of the other.</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am, no one," said the other, looking up in +surprise for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said Mildred, seating herself at her desk. +As she did so, her eyes fell upon an envelope with her +name written across it, and marked personal. She broke +the seal nervously. Calming herself, she straightened out +the folded sheet, and read it carefully.</p> + +<blockquote class="small"> +<p> +<i>Miss Mildred Latham</i>,</p> +<p class="ind"> +<i>My Dear Madam</i>:<br /> +</p> + +<p>It is impossible to state how much you have done for the sale +of the book during my illness. I do not hesitate to say, that in +view of the fact that I have struggled over a period of two years, +with only a small measure of success, as compared to that which +has come about since you have looked after it, that it is beyond me. +I cannot, however, conscientiously accept it in the way you have +offered it according to your statement. So I have, therefore, made +over to you the sum total that you placed in the bank to my credit.</p> + +<p>I am leaving the city for parts unknown, and may not return +for a long time—and possibly not at all.</p> + +<p>Regretting that I cannot thank you more amply, but hoping you +will accept what is no more than due you, I am,</p> + +<p class="midind"> +Very sincerely yours,<br /> +</p> +<p class="deepind"><span class="smcap">Sidney Wyeth</span>.</p></blockquote> + +<p>She laid the letter down and gazed into space for a +long time, not trying to understand anything. He had +gone, and left her. He had given her all she had earned, +and the privilege of earning more, but he had gone. +Would he ever return?... She was sorry now that +she didn't tell him all when it had been convenient; and +still, in the next thought, she was glad she hadn't.</p> + +<p>She was not excited, but went about the work without +any outward sign that she had been the recipient of anything +unusual; but all the day through, she was thinking +of what had just passed. She could not recall what she +had expected, or that she had expected anything; but of +one thing she was more conscious than ever before, and +that was that she loved him with all her soul.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[Pg 481]</a></span></p> + +<p>So she decided to allow matters to drift along and made +no change.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Wyeth stood before the window of the city ticket office +of a small railroad. He was attracted by a parish which +appeared rather remote, but where a lake was advertised +as a nice place to fish. He made up his mind to go there. +It was a half day's journey by rail, and a train left in +two hours. He returned to his room, and an hour later +his trunk was at the depot. He passed near the building, +and from where he paused, he caught a sight of her +sitting at the desk where she had sat the night before.</p> + +<p>He could go to her now, and say what had been on his +lips more than a year before. He gazed at her for a long +time, and was conscious of a longing. He had loved her—oh, +so very much. Indeed, she was everything he had +desired. Then he thought of the hag and what she had +said, and went his way to the depot.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Vellun Parish is perhaps the most remote part of the +state. It lies toward the southwest, and is bounded on +one side by the Gulf of Mexico. Its land is all swamp, +while no part of it is more than ten feet above the level +of the sea. The most of it is under perhaps a foot of +water. Upon the dry portion a few people live. They +make no effort to raise crops further than a garden, but +depend mostly upon fishing, and upon tourists for their +living. One railroad pulls through the mighty swamps +about it, and has a small station located on this dry +spot. It is many miles to another station. Almost +everybody leaves the place in summer, for mosquitoes +hold sway, while sickness and swamp fever are prevalent.</p> + +<p>It was high noon at this resort, and from down the +track could be heard the whistle of a small locomotive—for +the trestles would not hold up large, heavy ones, +Presently, with a ringing of bells, it came to a stop before +the station, and two people got off, other than members +of the train crew. One from the rear, and the other from +the front of the Jim Crow car.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[Pg 482]</a></span></p> + +<p>The latter was Sidney Wyeth, and in his hands he +carried a fishing outfit and other matter, together with a +suit case. Before the station loafed a few of the inhabitants, +including an old man whose age was perhaps +sixty. He regarded Wyeth strangely, but returned the +nod curteously, when the other had spoken.</p> + +<p>"Have any idea where I can find lodging about here?" +he inquired. It was at the end of the winter season, and +those who live the summer months through, had resigned +themselves to the heat and mosquitoes. The old +man surveyed Wyeth a moment critically before replying.</p> + +<p>"Well, I dunno exactly," said he at last, and Wyeth +was startled at his command of language, for in those +parts few spoke English, and when they did it was bad. +Creole was customary. The old man looked about a +moment before continuing, but presently he said. "I +live alone over beyond that clump of trees," and he +pointed to a grove that Wyeth saw plainly, "and if +you are alone, you might go along and look it over, and +if satisfied, why we might make a deal."</p> + +<p>"That's fair enough," agreed Wyeth. "I'm alone, +and may be here a month, a week, or it may be three +months, I can't say."</p> + +<p>"Very well then, follow me."</p> + +<p>He took part of the luggage, and they went across one +of the few cleared spots of the parish. Finally they came +to a neat log house behind a paling fence, before which +a dog barked viciously. "Don, Don, hush the noise," the +old man said. "He won't bite, but he is fond of barking." +The dog now rolled on his back at Wyeth's feet, and they +soon became friends. Sidney patted his head and then +rolled him over, much to the dog's delight.</p> + +<p>"Well, well, Governor!" cried Wyeth enthusiastically, +when they were inside, "but you're all fixed here, I +must say."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the other, slowly and modestly, "I guess +it'll do for an old relic like me," and he laughed humorously. +Wyeth regarded him a moment, and then, for +the first time told him his name.</p> + +<p>"And mine is Jefferson Bernard."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[Pg 483]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Bernard, I have always taken pride in the +fact that I am at home in the open," and he gazed out +the window across the cleared spot, and into the forest +that surrounded the house.</p> + +<p>"Glad to hear that," cried the other. "I was under the +impression that you were one of the fly butlers who come +here with their people."</p> + +<p>"No, I'm a sort of globe trotter, you might say. In +fact, at the present I have no plans whatever for the +future, so I might bunk with you here a few months. +Depends on how my mind is at the end of each day."</p> + +<p>"Restless, eh?"</p> + +<p>"That's it. Have spent eleven years on the prairies +of Dakota, and very often, the 'Call of the Wild' gets +into my veins, and I want to get out where I cannot see +any one, and sort of—well, forget the strenuous ways of +life for a while."</p> + +<p>Both laughed agreeably.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Jefferson Bernard. "I bunk here alone and +do my own cooking of course, and hunt and fish and read +and sleep whenever I get ready."</p> + +<p>Wyeth wondered at this man. About the wall everything +was clean, while the clothes the other wore were a +forest suit of brown cloth, with lace boots and a belt; +his hat was a broad brimmed Stetson. They were all +the best of material, and the man's appearance was +anything else but the back-woods Negro. He started to +inquire who he was, but something about the other did +not invite familiarity, so he talked on other topics instead.</p> + +<p>He had been there two weeks, and had been over all +the part of the parish that was accessible, when one +of the periodic rainy spells set in. For days they were +unable to get outside without getting wet, and at times +they told a great deal about themselves.</p> + +<p>"And that reminds me," said Bernard, "that you +spoke of Cincinnati and that you came south from there, +a bit over a year ago. I, then, left there after you did."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," said Wyeth in surprise.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I have been down here a little over a year only.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[Pg 484]</a></span> +I was reared in this same parish many years ago, and, +since then, I always had a longing to come back and +stay again until I got tired of it." He made himself +comfortable as he drew away on a long pipe; while +Wyeth, observing him, waited for the story he had to tell.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I used to live in Cincinnati—in fact, I guess +that is what I might call home, if not this."</p> + +<p>"This is news to me," said Wyeth.</p> + +<p>The other smiled languidly, and went on:</p> + +<p>"I used to live on Walnut Hill, and was employed by +Stephen Myer, a wealthy retired merchant, who not only +was well-to-do in Cinci', but owned a number of interests +in the south, in fact, he came to Cincinnati from the +south not so long before, and never went back again, +for he died.</p> + +<p>"I was his valet for years. Got acquainted with him +right here in this parish one winter, when he was staying +at the hotel over there, and it was the second winter +when he hired me and took me north with him.</p> + +<p>"Stephen Myer was a good man at heart, but a sport +until he died, and certainly believed in a good time with +the women. He loved his family, but he would run +around, which recalls his death whenever I think of it.</p> + +<p>"He came back from the south about three years ago +I think, and it was not long until I knew he was keeping a +girl he had brought with him. I paid the matter no +attention, because he always had somebody before; but +strange to say, after that he had no other. It was kept +very quiet and I knew nothing of it,—that is, from him, +until the night he died. That took place while we were +at a hotel in Detroit. His death was due to heart failure, +but it didn't take him as it does most of its victims. +He was conscious that he was going to die, although he +was, to all appearances, well.</p> + +<p>"It was then he told me the story.</p> + +<p>"Calling me to his bedside, this is what he said. I +do not think I shall ever forget it, because it was such +an awful death. 'Jeff,' said he. 'I'm going to die.' I +looked at him, saying: 'Oh, you're frightened;' but he +shook his head in such a way that I became frightened,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[Pg 485]</a></span> +and waited. 'Yes, Jeff,' he resumed: 'I'm goin' to die, +and Jeff, I'm going to hell,' I tried to soothe him, +but he only frowned slightly, and went on. 'Yes, Jeff, +I'm going to die and go to hell, because I deserve to go +there. I deserve to go there, Jeff, because I have sinned. +Yes, Jeff, I've committed an awful sin, and it's no more +than my due to burn in hell in payment. I never believed +much in such a place until not long ago, when I brought +that girl to Cincinnati.' He breathed deeply and with +some effort, and it was then I could see he wore a strange +expression, and now, as I look back at it, I guess that +meant death. He went on again, after a breathing spell:</p> + +<p>"'Bring me that box over there Jeff, that one with the +key in the lock. I want to leave that one whom I have +wronged something before I'm done for.' I brought it +to him, and he unlocked it, and took therefrom a lot of +papers, and a certified check for twenty-five thousand +dollars, all made out, and to be turned over to her through +due recognition, as attested by his lawyers in Cincinnati. +'Hadn't I better wire for your family?' I inquired of +him; but he waived it aside, and said he didn't want +them to know until it was over.</p> + +<p>"'Now, Jeff,' he went on, 'you are to take this envelope +to my attorney and see that you get their receipt of it, +after which, when you get back to Cincinnati, you take +this box as it is to her. I trust you, Jeff, and believe +that you will attend to it. And, too, I've left you well +cared for; but that is in the will, in due form. And now, +if you'll just give me a drink of water, I'll tell you the +story.</p> + +<p>"'My company had their southern office in Attalia, +and we had quite a bit of business with the financial +department of one of the big denominations of Negro +churches. And that was how we came to become involved +in this deal. The financial secretary of the church +very often gave us his note in payment, and soon became +well known to me, and I liked him. Pretty soon, however, +it came to me that he aspired to be a bishop; although +the office he held was a good graft, and we knew it, +altho' the niggers didn't. But he became crazy to be a +bishop and a real big Negro, proper.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[Pg 486]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'About this time, it came to my attention that something +crooked, something underhanded was going on in +the affairs of the church. Well, one of the boys who +worked as porter, was reading a Negro paper one day, +and I observed that this financial secretary's picture +covered the whole front page. I took the paper, and when +I had read all the stuff he had written under another's +name, I began to figure what it was costing him to become +a bishop. Other extravagances came under my +observation, and, since the business we had with them +was becoming involved, I began an investigation regarding +the preacher. It developed that he had been married +twice—that is, the present wife was his second. The +first one had died and left him two daughters. My investigation, +which came through a Negro detective by +the name of Dejoie, although he was known during the +investigation as Edwards, developed that he was a +despot. His youngest daughter by his first wife realized +this, and she threw it into his face, and left when she +was thirteen, going to a place in Michigan where she +educated herself. The other was a girl with much sense, +but somewhat subservient to the old man, regardless of +the fact that she possessed a mind of her own. Apparently +it had been the old man's practice to have them regard +him as the great I am. She stayed with her father, who +lived with his second wife, and to that union were born +several children, I don't know how many.</p> + +<p>"'Edwards uncovered all this and some more. He revealed +the fact that this preacher, who was so anxious to +become a bishop, was not only seeking it by extravagant +methods, but had employed the church's funds to the +amount of more than five thousand dollars. And still, +all those pig headed niggers knew nothing of it. It's a +great wonder they have anything, they seem to know so +little. My company was up against it for what was due +us; but that was not the end of it. On top of this, what +did that sinner do but write my name on a note for +five thousand dollars, and, through his standing with the +bank, got the money and covered the shortage before +those niggers ever knew there was any! Wasn't that the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">[Pg 487]</a></span> +limit? He was elected bishop, and became the big nigger +his great ambition had aspired to.</p> + +<p>"'I was too put out to do anything at once, although +the note came due before I was aware it had been given.</p> + +<p>"'The night I discovered it, was one when I happened to +be in my office alone. I decided forthwith to place it in +the hands of the law. It was then that this daughter +came to the office with a note from him, asking for an +appointment. I have an idea he was only then aware +that the note was due or past due. She caught me as +mad as a hornet, and I told her the whole thing. I shall +not soon forget the expression on her face when I had +told her. She looked like she would die right there. It +was then, too, I saw how beautiful she was and so well +formed. Suddenly a proposal entered my head. I have +always been impulsive, but I have never been known to +back up. So I got up and stood before her, and said my +say. She was terribly indignant and would have fled, +but I stood between her and the door. I became mad to +have that girl. She fought me, but I grew worse. I finally +said to her: "Come with me to Cincinnati, and save +your rotten, sinning preacher father from the chain gang. +A home it is up there with plenty of everything, or fifteen +years for your now bishop father on the worst chain gang +in the world." She regarded me wildly, as the substance +of it became clear to her. "Oh, I mean it," I cried. "I'm +going to send that dad of yours to the chain gang tomorrow—and +you know what that means." I think all the horror +of it rose before her in that moment. All the Negroes, +spiteful, envious creatures crying: "Aw, you're a big +nigger, huh. Your daddy's a bishop!" And the next day: +"Um-um! What do you think of it! A big bishop done +fo'ged a note!" And she had seen the chain gang. All +those stripes and chains frightened her. She looked up +at me with an appeal in her eyes that frightened me—even +then; but I was too wild to have her at that moment, +to give heed. And then she begged me to have mercy. +She cried and beseeched—she did everything, and then—in +the end—well, I'll not soon forget those appeals. "I'm +a nice girl. Can you not appreciate what that means?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">[Pg 488]</a></span> +I will—to save my father and those little ones; but before +God: Hear him, please, see him. I may be yours +in body, but never in soul; while—oh, can't you see +what you ask? Can you not see that you take everything +I have lived for? Don't you see, that when you rob a +woman of her purity you have destroyed her womanhood?" +She fell on her face and sobbed until, as I see it now, I +can't imagine how I could have acted so.</p> + +<p>"'And that is why, Jeff, I'm going to hell. Yes, +to hell!' He was going now, his eyes had a far away, +an unearthly expression; but before he was gone, he +said—and his voice seemed to come from another world +as I held him. 'I'm going, Jeff, I'm going. Satan's +waiting for me. And, say, Jeff,' his voice now came in +gasps, and sounded as if from eternity: 'I don't mind it +so much, no I don't, Jeff; but the only thing, and the +last request of God, is to be sure to send that old preacher +down to meet me sometime.' With that his muscles +relaxed, a spasm contracted his form, and he lay dead."</p> + +<p>The two were silent now. Outside a bird hopped about, +and finally lit on the window sill, peering in as if to inquire +the cause of the silence. After a long time, it seemed, +Wyeth spoke.</p> + +<p>"Strange. And did—you—ah—fulfill the request?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the other slowly. "I did at once, and let +me tell you, my friend, I will never forget that girl's +face. Oh, I've seen many; but this girl's face told the +story, and her story was that of a pure girl, a good girl, +who had made a sublime sacrifice. Was that sacrifice +worth the cost?" Again silence reigned supreme, each +with his thoughts.</p> + +<p>The birds outside made sweet music, as they flitted +happily about. Sidney Wyeth was speaking again, and +his voice was from a distance, as he said quietly:</p> + +<p>"What became of her?"</p> + +<p>"What became of her? Oh yes," cried the other, +sitting up and shaking off his distraction, as though he +had been awakened from sleep. "Why, she left soon +after. Came south, and when I was on the way down +here, I chanced to stop over in a town—I won't mention<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[Pg 489]</a></span> +the name—because she was there. Was selling a book, +so I understood, but was staying with the pastor of the +Presbyterian church, and high in their favor. I was glad +to see it and never let on; but there was a skunk aboard +the same train from Cincinnati, and who stayed there. +I've often thought about it since, and I hope that devil +never knew her and made trouble. She was a good girl, +and still may be saved if things go along right."</p> + +<p>"Life is full of mysteries," Wyeth commented.</p> + +<p>"Sure is," his companion replied, and then became +dreary, as his mind wandered sadly, solemnly, back into +the past. Suddenly he sat bolt upright, saying: "I trust +you, and for that reason, since I have told it to you, I +have a small picture that I found in the old man's effects, +and considered it good policy to remove. So I have +kept it, and I'm going to show it to you."</p> + +<p>While the other fished away in an old trunk, a strange +thought came to Sidney Wyeth, and he recalled singularly, +the effort for the Y.M.C.A. in that town up the +river, and how twenty-five thousand dollars from a +source that no one could explain, was paid at almost +the last minute.... He was doing some thinking +and had forgotten all about the other, who had closed +the trunk now, and came before him with a small picture. +He sat up quickly when the other touched him, and held +before his gaze the picture of Mildred Latham.</p> + +<p>And in that moment there came a vision of a dark, +dreary night, when he hurried through the streets of +Cincinnati, and came to a place where an old woman sat, +an evil hag; and who regarded him with malicious eyes—eyes +that appeared to hate everyone—and the words in +reply to his request, came back with a shock: "<i>Gwan! +She's with her man!</i>"</p> + +<p>Sidney continued to gaze at the picture. There was +profound silence, for neither spoke. One was not in the +mood to do so, the other could not. He raised his hand +mechanically to his head, as though to rid his mind of +some obstruction. He tried to think coherently, but his +senses were confused.</p> + +<p>He turned, staggered slightly, groping as if blindly, for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[Pg 490]</a></span> +support, and passed on out into the open, and under +God's pure heavens—anywhere away from the stifling +air inside, and its hideous secret.</p> + +<p>Sidney stood outside now, and the spring sun beat upon +his bare head, as, with his trembling hand he shaded his +eyes, and looked in the direction of the creole city. +Back there he would go—he had to go! He couldn't +say why—feel why—now. For, in the tangle of his confused +thoughts, nothing seemed clear. But, he would +go back. His hand sought his forehead again. Yes, he +would go back.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Let us go back to a night when the heroine of our +story got up from a drunken stupor, to find that the hour +of fate—fate for the Y.M.C.A. was at hand. She had +rushed breathlessly to the office of the Western Union, +and had secured the money that had been transferred, +at her request, from the Cincinnati bank some days +before. She had known when Wilson Jacobs returned +unsuccessful in his attempt, that some expedient was +necessary.</p> + +<p>When she realized a year before, that she was heiress +to such a sum of money, she had worried as to what she +would do with it. Her conscience would never let her +touch a penny of it for personal use. It had been left +on deposit, and, insofar as her daily life had been concerned, +she had about forgotten it, until the climax of +Wilson Jacobs' great effort had stood like a spectre +before her.</p> + +<p>For a time she had hesitated, feeling that such money +should not be used for Christian purposes.... But, +when she had awakened on that dreadful night, she +came at once to appreciate how, through her and her +alone, this effort should be realized.</p> + +<p>So, she rushed pell mell through the streets that led to +Wilson Jacobs' home. As she hurried along, visions of +the great need passed fitfully through her mind. She +recalled all the crime she had witnessed; thousands +yearly herded on the gangs, torn mothers, prostituted +sisters, homes broken up by that demon of liquor. She<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[Pg 491]</a></span> +could see the condition which forced so many of her +people to the belief that colored people could never be +anything, regardless as to how much they might try.</p> + +<p>Race prejudice, that demon of American society, had +succeeded in convincing so many of these weak people +that there was no future; that the only resort was to get +all the excitement out of life that was possible. How +they conducted themselves to secure such a life, was the +one great detriment to the race, to the city, to the +state, and in the end, to the United States.</p> + +<p>As she rushed along, she could hear these poor creatures, +and the words they uttered, when approached with offers +for their salvation; for, in addition to the discouragement +caused by race prejudice, there was another feature +that was worse still—class prejudice. The folly of it. +The effect was more damnable, she knew, than all the +other causes, for, through it these poor creatures were +made to feel that they were actually bad; bad beyond +redemption, which made them unfit for the civilized +world. Under this they fretted. They grew likewise to +hate, and in the end, to become not only a disgrace to +the race, community and state, but even enemies to +society.</p> + +<p>She recalled once a man, a mulatto and obviously a +pervert, who answered a street preacher. She could never +seem to forget his words.</p> + +<p>"You say," he had said, "that I should get religion. +<i>and I say, what's the use</i>? I'm a <i>nigger</i>, and that means +I'm a vagabond, a cast-off, a thing to be hated, condemned +and persecuted. You speak of brotherly love +and the reward hereafter. I laugh when you make such +assertions. <i>Heaven for a Negro?</i> Why, do you suppose +that even Satan would care for him? As to brotherly +love, why don't you go to the white man that keeps my +sister? Why don't you tell that man what you preach +about? I am illegitimate. My youngest sister, the white +man's mistress, is too, and so are all the rest! Then you +speak of heaven and reward in the hereafter for Negroes. +The hereafter is the chain gang, where my illegitimate +brother is serving twenty years for murder. As for me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[Pg 492]</a></span> +I'm going to a blind tiger and get a drink. I'm going to +get drunk. The idea that a Negro can be anything is a +joke. There may be a heaven for white people, but for +a Negro, oh, you fool!"</p> + +<p>As all this and other instances passed through her +mind, Mildred became much excited. Then, as the +reality dawned upon her, a picture of what that money +could do became clear to her, and with Wilson Jacobs +as its secretary, she presently came to feel that her +sacrifice might be a blessing in disguise.</p> + +<p>On and on she hurried, until at last she came to the +house. She paused at the gate, and caught her breath. +Her thoughts were busy for a moment, as she tried to +formulate a plan to deliver the money without being +caught. She struggled nervously, with first one plan and +then another, and then at last she boldly entered the +gate and walked up to the front door. As she reached +to push the bell, she looked through the glass door. +Wilson sat nodding in the study. His position, she saw, +was such that he could see the clock, and watch the +fatal moments pass. It was then past eleven. She could +see the clock and realized what those moments meant. +He had, as she observed him, fallen asleep from sheer +fatigue. As she watched him, there came to her mind a +bold idea, and she put it into effect at once. She tried +the door, fearing it might be locked, but was relieved +when it opened with a turn of the knob.</p> + +<p>She entered the house on tip-toe, passed through the +hall to the study, which was to one side, entered the +room in which he sat, and, with breath held, nerves +tense, she cautiously crossed to where he sat. She +slowly drew her breath, when she saw he was sleeping +peacefully. She placed the package containing the price +of her virtue upon the table. She looked at him again, +and caught her breath in fear, as he moved slightly, but +did not fully awaken.</p> + +<p>The next moment she stole her way to the door, like a +thief in the night, and was outside. She turned, as she +heard a sound, and saw Constance, weary, tired, and +apparently nervally exhausted, come from the rear and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[Pg 493]</a></span> +enter the study. She dared stand and watch her, as she +entered the study where her brother sat, now fully +awake, but oblivious to the presence of the package. He +was watching the clock that was ticking away.</p> + +<p>With a catch of her breath, she saw that Constance +had discovered the package, and she saw them open it +with curiosity. She noted the look of intense joy, as +their eyes beheld the contents.</p> + +<p>As she was leaving, these words floated out to her in +the stillness of night, "<i>Go, brother, in God's name, go!</i>"</p> + +<p>No one, so far as we know, guessed where the much +needed money came from. But, strangely enough, the +giving had relieved the giver. After she left the Jacobs' +home, she felt as she had never felt before, and took +life and what it brought very calmly. As she passed +along, she looked with silent relief into the faces of +those of her race, who were persecuted on one hand by +fear of the superior white, and, on the other, by cast. +At times she had regarded them as so many dogs, lurking, +hungry dogs, who wait until darkness sets in, before +lurking in the alleys and searching garbage cans, expecting +to be kicked or be killed upon discovery, if, for no +other reason, simply to give vent to a hatred. They +felt, as she saw it, that it was the lot of the Negro +to be hated. They got no kindness; they expected none; +they even scoffed when it was offered, regarding it as +some subtle means of inviting them to a worse fate, and +this was what discrimination and prejudice had brought +them to.</p> + +<p>There still remained the dispensation. No person in +all the world, she felt, was so fitted for the task as Wilson +Jacobs. Care of the building, after its completion, +would itself be a problem. Then there was that distrust +to dispell. Too often, she knew, that arrogance on the +part of the leaders of these institutions, had a tendency +to keep away from their doors the very class whom they +sought to attract. Unfortunately, the Negroes themselves +realized that those conditions were true.</p> + +<p>Wilson Jacobs was not such a character. She felt +relieved as she realized this. When she thought again of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[Pg 494]</a></span> +her people, she appreciated what in time this genuine +Christianity of his would mean to them, when they came +to know him for the kind man he was. Her race was +emotional, superstitious, but withal, patriotic and enthusiastic. +Nothing, regardless of all she had seen, could +make her think otherwise. And what could be the +attitude of her race, her brothers, when they realized the +efforts made in their behalf? Will they say:</p> + +<p>"You want to help me? You <i>really</i> want to be a +brother, and take me into that place and help me to +lead a good, clean life? And I doubted you! I scorned +your offer and cursed you and all society. Oh, merciful +God, but I knew not what I did! And you say, that +I am not bad, that I never was bad? That I was merely +weak—weak as other human beings were? Can all this +be true? I can hardly realize it. I have <i>never</i> known +kindness. I have always been told that life held no +future for me, a Negro; that by the will of our Creator, +I was born to be hated, hunted and abused, a creature of +no destiny, a thing to be spat upon and made a slave +of, a creature without morals. You say that all this was +wrong, and that I can be not only a good person, but an +example for the good of others? That I am, after all, +only the victim of circumstances?"</p> + +<p>Wilson Jacobs would convince them, and, when this +was done, her reward would come.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[Pg 495]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_ELEVEN_4" id="CHAPTER_ELEVEN_4"></a>CHAPTER ELEVEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Mildred, I've Come Back</i>"</p> + + +<p>It seemed a long way back to the city, as though he +would never get there, and the train crept slowly along +through the mighty swamps. But all the way, his mind +was busy. Thought after thought came and went, but +only one became fixed. "I love her," he cried, again and +again. "I love her!" he exclaimed feverishly. "Nothing +else matters—nothing else <i>can</i> matter, now!"</p> + +<p>He was going to her, just as fast as the slow train would +carry him, and when he arrived—beyond those conflicting +moments, he got no further.</p> + +<p>He lay back in his seat after a spell, and calmed himself +to a degree that he could see it all clearly. He wanted +to see her now; he wanted to look deep into the eyes +that he was sure must be tired; he wanted to see behind +those mirrors, and to do his share to relieve the turmoil +within. After a time, his return to the office after his +illness, recurred to him. He had found a letter from the +publisher, and upon opening it, he had found it to contain +a draft for a large sum of money. He didn't know then +who had sold the book with so much success to him, and +he had wondered. Strange, but it had not occurred to +him then, that it was she. But now, it was all clear—everything.</p> + +<p>"And it was Mildred all the while!" he exclaimed in a +controlled voice, despite the excitement it gave him. +"How could I have misunderstood so long!" And then +the instance of the five thousand dollars came back to him, +and the sale of his work as he had left it. True, he had +given this all over to her; but the fact to be reckoned +with was that she had succeeded where he had not.... She +had done this without any thought of herself.... No +girl with so much ability, with such constructive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[Pg 496]</a></span> +thoughts, would have done as she had for others, unless +inspired by some divine sacrifice.</p> + +<p>It was all clear to him now. And then the other.... In +all his life, virtue in women had been his highest +regard. During the months he spent in the south, he +had seen immorality of a nature that was revolting to +his finer senses. It had been the custom since the landing +of Negroes in this country, and was in evidence every +where, in the many colors that made up his people; but, +in spite of this, his high regard for the virtuous woman +remained the same. So, when the words of the hag came +back to him, amid all the good things he was thinking of +her, for a time, all was swept from him in a wave of +revolt.... How could he be blind henceforth to that?</p> + +<p>He became weak and listless for a time. To pass on +through the city; to catch one of the ocean goers that he +was often interested in observing at the harbor, and go +to Argentina, Brazil—anywhere and forget it all; and +then there came to him the thought of his people. All +that he had lived through when he saw the leaders with +their selfishness, the neglect of their Christian duty; +how he had written of that selfishness, fearlessly with +jaws set and soul on fire; and of the reign of excitement +that followed—it was impossible to further contemplate +other plans.</p> + +<p>And, amid all the chaos, there came to him thoughts of +the success of the Christian forward movement in the +town up the river. With success there, in the worst of +two towns in the world, it was now an almost foregone +conclusion, that shortly, the spirit would prevail successfully +in other towns. Yes, it would have to. The public, +for its own welfare, would soon come to appreciate what +such a movement meant to two-fifths of its population. +And how came this to be? Would the people of that town +up the river, now have a beautiful building in course of +construction, if it had been left to them to supply that +fatal twenty-five thousand? "Great God!" he murmured, +"how can I, <i>how can I</i>!"</p> + +<p>And, as the train continued on its way over innumerable +trestles with lagoons and marshes everywhere, it occurred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">[Pg 497]</a></span> +to him, that the one who had made all this possible, and +who, at the price of purity, which was a woman's all, +was now, and for the sake of it, homeless and friendless.... Even +that family, that bishop father, surrounded +by thousands of hero worshippers, with his +picture decorating the walls of thousands of homes, and +pointed to by day, would scorn her. The thousands of +young men, respectable, but poor, and who, for this +girl's sacrifice, were given a great chance to conduct their +future lives along Christian lines, even they would scorn +her. All decent and respecting society would scorn her. +<i>They would have to scorn her.</i> He himself <i>had already +scorned her</i>.</p> + +<p>He allowed his gaze to wander beyond the waters of +a lagoon; until it rested upon a clump of trees that rose +ragged in the background. He was too torn with anguish +to think for a time. What price had been put upon +virtue, for his people—and her people—was too great to +estimate. But behind it all, was a homeless, friendless, +loveless little girl, drifting about in the world. For +Mildred Latham as he saw her again, was a mere girl, +not yet twenty-two. She had a heart, but what kind of +a heart must she have, after the suffering she had endured? +Yet she was a human being, with a human desire after all.</p> + +<p>What he had seen in her eyes in Cincinnati; that pain, +and at times that wild, elfinlike, mad desire.... And, +oh, that caress, that one kiss that seemed to have penetrated +her very soul; the look she had given him; that +weak protest, afterward united in its pathetic appeal for +mercy.... She had been his dream; his mad desire. +He had declared then, that he would help to dispell that +worry; he had felt himself courageous enough to do so, +too; but now before him was the test, and he was weakening +under it.</p> + +<p>Back in the <i>Rosebud Country</i>, he had lived alone for +years, and during those long days, his greatest desire, +his greatest hope, had been to love, to have that love +returned by his ideal of womanhood. He dismissed what +had followed. The other had not even courage enough to +accept graciously what he had worked for. Any woman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[Pg 498]</a></span> +can, to a degree, mould the future of her husband. No +man, he knew, could be oblivious to the condition of his +household, and that which made it. That part of his +life, however, had long since been a closed chapter. His +great effort had been to forget it, and he had succeeded +to such a degree, that he was able to concentrate his +mind on other things; but now, it was different. Because, +with the exception of the one thing, Mildred +Latham was more than his picture, his ideal. But that +one thing was the silent barrier.</p> + +<p>It was springtime now, and back in the <i>Rosebud +Country</i> all must be busy. He thought of the years, and +how busy he was at this time. And hopeful; because, +whether the season proved successful or not, springtime, +when the crops were planted, was always a hopeful time; +every farmer believed, as he planted his seed, that the +season would be successful. And now he was not there to +plant the crops. He had not been there the year before; +but, as he continued to recall the past, he knew that it +had never occurred to him that he would have been anywhere +else but there. He wanted to be there; but +financially, he couldn't afford to be there any more.</p> + +<p>After an interminable spell of mental depression, something +came to his mind. It entered slowly, but at last +took shape. He whispered after a time: "Yes, yes, I +could. With that amount I could start all over again.... +And out there, no one would know, no one would need to +know.... Just being there with the right to continue +as I once was; but with a terrible experience to remind +me of what it is all worth—it would not be the same now."</p> + +<p>He saw her now differently. That other side was passing. +It would come back—it would keep coming back; +but it was his duty; it was his future—it was his very +life to crush it as often as it came up; but that was not +the half of it: Mildred Latham was homeless, and +friendless as we know. After what she had done for so +many others, was it not Christianlike to think of her?...</p> + +<p>And now he had another thought. Yes, back in the +<i>Rosebud Country</i> it would be possible for two people to +be happy; people who had no other hope, no other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[Pg 499]</a></span> +ambition, but to follow the pursuit of happiness and +labor....</p> + +<p>As it became clearer, he realized that he had never +cared for conventionality. That other experience had +thrust it upon him, and when he showed his dislike for it, +he had been tortured. It would be different—now. +Mildred Latham would not care for any thing but himself, +and that which would make him happy.... And +he, his experience had been too real and too bitter, not +to appreciate what kindness, sincerity, and courage in +one's convictions, means in future happiness.</p> + +<p>The train stood in the station now, and all the other +passengers had left the cars. He came out of his revery +with a start; and, hastily collecting his luggage, he +rushed forth, and caught a car that took him within a +block of his office. He deposited his grips in a cafe he +knew, and, a few minutes later, he stood in the doorway.</p> + +<p>It was late in the afternoon, and nearly everyone in the +building had left for home; but she was there. Curiously, +he had felt that she would be there. With the amount +of business he had seen she had created, he was certain +that he would find her, and he did.</p> + +<p>She sat at the desk, as she had the afternoon he had +returned from the hospital. She was working away, and +he saw her before she noticed him. When she did, she +gave a start, opened her mouth, and then, as if she +thought of something, closed it slowly, fumbled her pen, +but said nothing.</p> + +<p>He paused briefly and observed her, and as he did so, +took note of the fact that she had lowered her head. +And he knew. It was in shame. Strangely now, since +she knew that he was aware of at least a part of the past, +she could not endure to have him look at her. But, in +these moments, Sidney Wyeth was not observing her in +scorn, as her colored cheeks gave evidence.</p> + +<p>Mildred sat still and waited. She expected to be +scorned; she had come to a place in life, where she expected +anything. He might rebuke her, and she would +say nothing; but intuitively, she had never felt <i>he</i> would +rebuke her. As she sat with drooped head, he saw one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[Pg 500]</a></span> +tear drop unchecked upon her lap. No others followed; +but he knew the time had come to go to this girl. She +had endured a hard lot. Not one person in a thousand, +would have gone through what she had, but human +endurance, wrestling with all life's vicissitudes, has a +limit. How much it cost, that one tear, he could not +fully estimate; but, if he knew life, if some one didn't +come to Mildred Latham's rescue soon, she might become +anything. Not far from where she sat, a thousand or +more women were burning their souls in hell. And all +those women were there—not by preference; but because +they were simply human beings and weak.</p> + +<p>He approached, and a moment later stood near her, +while her finger toyed with the pen. She had, as he +noticed now, grown stouter since he knew her in Cincinnati. +Her hair covered her head, and was beautiful to +his eyes, while her skin appeared somewhat darker. He +paused as one at a loss how to begin, because he had so +much he then wished to say. Presently he found his voice, +and his excitement was controlled as he spoke her name:</p> + +<p>"Mildred," said he. She heard him, but did not reply. +So he repeated: "Mildred, I've come back." He paused +again, and the room was silent. She did not answer him, +and he did not expect her to. Presently he said it over +again. "Yes, I've come back.... I was away. I was +off in one of the parishes, one of the most remote, for, when +I left, I wanted to be away, away from everybody.... +But it happened out there, that I met a man, Mildred. +I met a man ... and he told me a story, a long story.... +What he told me, concerned something—something I will +not tell, and somebody I will not mention, but what he +told me, cleared the horizon.... And that's why I came +back. On the way I faltered, I weakened for a time. I +thought once of not stopping. I started to go on and on +and on, maybe never stop. But when I thought again, +and again, and kept on thinking, I couldn't. I couldn't, +because, well, after all, I wanted to stop.</p> + +<p>"So I stopped, Mildred, and then, I came here. Here—and +to you.... I have come back, Mildred, and to +you. Are you glad I've come back, Mildred?" He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">[Pg 501]</a></span> +paused and listened, though he did not expect her to +answer.</p> + +<p>She remained as she was, and silent.</p> + +<p>"On the way back, I thought of you, of nothing else, +no one else but you. My thoughts went back to our +acquaintance in Cincinnati, and the day we danced and +I—I—kissed you, Mildred." He paused again, and +gazed out over the rows of buildings below. "And then +I realized what has been wrong with me ever since, and +all my life.... It was because I have been hungry. I +have been starving to death these many years for love, +Mildred, love and understanding.... I am still hungry, +and thirsty; but at last a hope has come to me. A hope +that it will not long continue as it has these many years. +But withal, I have thought of something else too. And +that is, I want to go home. I want to go home to stay. +I don't like it here; I don't like it anywhere, but in the +<i>Rosebud Country</i>."</p> + +<p>"The <i>Rosebud Country</i>?" she echoed, sitting erect and +turning slightly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mildred, The <i>Rosebud Country</i>." He paused +again, and the ticking of his watch was quite audible to +both. "Yes," he said presently, and after a time, in +which he seemed to be engaged in deep thought, he +resumed, "and I was going to say that I have decided to +go back." He moved and stood beside her. The sinking +sun now played a last evening ray across her face, and in +turning from it, she happened to look up and into his +face. He saw her now as he had never seen her before. +Something she saw caused her to catch her breath and +venture another look. His eyes appeared to see something +far away, and she continued to stare at him.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mildred," he started again, and now his voice +became low and strange. She understood, and knew that +he was living in the past, oblivious to her presence. +She listened with a strange rapture. "I've decided to +go back to that land beyond the Big Muddy. Back to +that little reservation, the name of which I love. But +Mildred, it depends." He halted and looked down into +her face. Their eyes met now, and both seemed hypno<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_502" id="Page_502">[Pg 502]</a></span>tized +for they continued to stare at each other, becoming +more enraptured. "It depends," said he, very slowly, +"<i>upon you</i>." She looked away, but he reached and +caught her hand. He backed up until he reached the +desk, upon which he seated himself. He looked at her +now pleadingly. She gave one glance, and caught the +same look she had seen but once before, more than a +year before, and before he knew. He pulled her gently +from the chair, and placed her beside him on the desk.</p> + +<p>"It depends <i>upon you</i> Mildred!" And still she said +nothing.</p> + +<p>"Out there, Mildred, I longed for you. Yes, it was you, +you! These many years I waited for you. At last I +have found you. Oh, I have found you, the <i>one Woman</i>. +And now," he said this in a strong voice, "I'm through. +I'm through, and ready to go back, if you will go with me. +Do you hear? I mean, that I love you Mildred. Love +you with all the passion of a hungry heart." He paused +again.</p> + +<p>"And you have had a hard time, little girl, oh you've +had a hard time. I <i>know</i>. But it's all over now, dear. +Yes, it's all over now. There is no society that we are +under obligation to; there are no pretentious persons +to make us false to our convictions; there is nothing but +impulse to direct us."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Sidney," he heard her say with a slight tremble. +His arm stole about her waist, and she did not remove it. +She looked up into his eyes and saw him with trust. +"And you'll go?" he said and waited.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean it Sidney? Oh, Sidney, <i>do you mean it</i>?" +Her voice now was low, strained, strangely wistful, and +then, as if suddenly remembering something she had +apparently forgotten, her eyes took on an expression of +mute appeal, like that of a hunted animal. Her form +became tense, while a spasm of agony contracted her +features as she moaned:</p> + +<p>"<i>No, No, No I can not. Oh, I will not!</i>" And +before he could quite understand her sudden rebellion, +she rushed from the room and into the hall, and soon +her rapid footsteps died away in the distance.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">[Pg 503]</a></span></p> + +<p>He stood as she had left him, not comprehending that +she had gone. "Am I awake?" he whispered dreamily +putting his hands together, and gazing at them stupidly, +as if to assure himself they were his own, "She has gone? +Gone, gone! Mildred—but—why?" He felt sadly weak, +for the strain was beginning to tell upon him.</p> + +<p>In a half stupor, he finally found a seat in the office +chair, and mechanically let his gaze wander out over the +city. After a time, it rested upon a street that led down +to the wide thoroughfare. His eye soon caught sight of +a figure hurrying along the walk. He leaned forward and +observed it carefully, and when it reached another street, +he made out that it was Mildred. He watched her as +she crossed quickly to the center where a car was moving, +and boarded it. In a moment it had disappeared down +the street.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504">[Pg 504]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_TWELVE_4" id="CHAPTER_TWELVE_4"></a>CHAPTER TWELVE</h2> + +<p class="center"><i>The Slave Market</i></p> + + +<p>Days passed and still he waited, still he watched, and +still he listened, but in vain. And always he moved +about distractedly. He had no plans, he had no hopes +now, but was simply moving in a circle. At times he +would utter stupidly, "Where is she? Where is Mildred?" +And after that he would become silent; he would be +thinking—yes, always thinking.</p> + +<p>He ransacked the office; he made inquiries to ascertain +where she stayed—but in vain. He knew not how +to look for her; he knew not where to begin. But the +work in the office—the result of her ability—continued to +increase. Mail was brought four times a day, and in +each, letters from far and near would contain money +orders, express checks, cheerful letters, and still orders +for more books. But they gave him no cheer, notwithstanding +he mechanically went about the work, with the +system he saw she had created.</p> + +<p>And as the days went by, he grew more anxious, more +worried in regard to her fate, and he grew determined to +find her, if he could.</p> + +<p>"Poor little girl. Poor little Mildred. Why has she +done all this? And she is alone somewhere—always +alone—and I know not where."</p> + +<p>There came a day when he felt he could stand it no +longer.</p> + +<p>He took a walk; he knew not where it led to. Possibly +it led nowhere. Yet he felt he must walk, not in the +direction he was accustomed to go (to the river, where +he had wandered many a night, and observed the mighty +ocean liners, receiving and discharging their cargoes; or +where, on the deck of packets, he listened to steam +calliopes), but in a direction he had never gone before.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">[Pg 505]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was in one of the creole city's narrow ways, where +he presently found himself. Sidney strolled along, oblivious +to all whereabouts, and found that this part of +the city was much unlike any part he had known.</p> + +<p>He felt as one in a strange land, to be sure. On all +sides he was greeted by little low houses, opening into +the narrow streets. Peculiar people moved about and +spoke in a tongue he could not understand, but he knew +it was creole. They were quieter than those in the +neighborhood he lived, and he understood. They were +all Catholics, he had been told, and "obeyed" the priest. +He was glad of it. He wished all his race would obey +something other than their animal instincts.</p> + +<p>He paused at last before a statue in a small square. +Four rows of buildings faced it on that many sides. +Only one side confronted him, however, and to this he +finally went. He stopped before a large church, a cathedral, +and read that it had been built almost two hundred +years before. Next to the church, was the museum. +Curious, and for a time forgetting his troubles, he wandered +in. He went up a winding stairway to the second +floor. As he passed upward, great oil paintings greeted +him. All old, this he saw; for, under many were inscriptions, +showing that many had been painted more +than a hundred years ago. While he had never studied +this art, he readily appreciated that many were wonderful. +Elegant ladies gazed at him from the frames, their +eyes following him strangely out of sight; for, no matter +where he stood, whether in front or from either side, +they seemed to scrutinize him.</p> + +<p>He passed into the museum and began to examine, +through the glass cases, relics of another day. That the +city was old was shown by the age of papers and documents +of numerous mention. Pictures of fond old +mammies, gray and white-haired old uncles, grand +dames (such as Dixie had seen), caught his attention +everywhere.</p> + +<p>An old, old man, scion of a decayed aristocracy, sat in +a chair within this art room, and Sidney approached him. +"Have you," said he, "any record of the sale of slaves,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">[Pg 506]</a></span> +in this museum?" The other pointed to a room Wyeth +had not observed, but spoke no word.</p> + +<p>Wyeth wandered into it, and his gaze immediately +encountered what he was curious to see.</p> + +<p>"Know all men by these presents:</p> + +<p>"Being the last will and testament of Joan Becuare.</p> + +<p>"To my wife and life companion, I do bequeath to thee, +all I have after death. To-wit:</p> + +<p>"One thousand acres of land in Caddo Parish, unencumbered.</p> + +<p>"One hundred niggers, of various ages and the +following description:</p> + +<p>"One mammy, age eighty. A better wench never +lived. Name: Diana.</p> + +<p>"One 'uncle', eighty-seven, beloved servant of his +master, and faithful ever. Name: Joe.</p> + +<p>"One wench, twenty-two, robust, healthy, a good +servant of the house. Name: Martha."</p> + +<p>And so on the description ran, which seemed strange +and unnecessary in a will; then he recalled the sentiment +of the southerner.</p> + +<p>In still another case, he read a sale bill, written in +long hand with an artistic flourish:</p> + +<p>"Having sold my plantation, I will hereby sell to the +highest bidder, at public auction, the following named +property, to-wit:</p> + +<p>"One nigger wench, sixteen years, hail and hearty, +promises to be a good breeder, and is now with child by +Ditto, a young nigger, strong as a lion, healthy and a +good worker. Not 'sassy'.</p> + +<p>"One nigger wench, twenty-three, name, Mandy. +This is the most attractive wench in Gretna Parish. +She is expecting a third child soon."</p> + +<p>Wyeth wondered why the father was not mentioned. +And then he thought of something, and knew.... His +own father was the son of a master.</p> + +<p>He read other such documents, and then observed +that almost all sales were recorded to be held at the +"slave" market. After an hour or more, he passed out.</p> + +<p>He went up a street, which was narrow—like all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_507" id="Page_507">[Pg 507]</a></span> +those in the old section of the city, and walked +on, whither he had no idea. Not far away, he could see +the river and many great vessels moving up and down. +Just ahead of him, appeared an odd, long, two-story +building. The first glance revealed that, once upon a +time, it had been a grand affair. "Wonder what it was?" +he muttered idly.</p> + +<p>And now he came up to it, and paused near one end. +He viewed it many minutes curiously from across the +street, but he could not make out what it had been. +As he saw it now, it was evident that it had been empty +for many, many years.</p> + +<p>Presently, he crossed to where a door greeted him, +only to find, when he had come to it, that it was bolted +from the inside, while the heavy iron knob was rusted +until it was hardly recognizable. He glanced up, and, +straining his eyes, he read an inscription over the door:</p> + +<p class="center"> +ST. LOUIS—ROYAL HOTEL</p> +<p class="center small">SLAVE MARKET +</p> + +<p>"So this is the place," he whispered, observing everything +before him now with a new interest. "Herein +were sold, in the days of old, hundreds—aye, thousands +of <i>my</i> people." He passed to the street upon which the +hotel faced for a block, and walked down this, observing +the decaying structure with greater curiosity. The entire +building was, apparently, empty. A porch, supported +by massive iron pillars, reached over the walk, the entire +length of the building. The large windows of the second +story were without glass, and gaped darkly, seeming to +tell a story which he would like to have known. The +lower floor had evidently been given over to business +purposes, judging from the wide windows that now +were boarded over with two-inch planks. All this was +decorated with stage announcements.</p> + +<p>When he reached the other end, there was an opening; +the door was to one side, and, more curious now than +ever, he paused, and gazed into the dark interior. Soon +he passed within. The place seemed almost as dark as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_508" id="Page_508">[Pg 508]</a></span> +a dungeon at first, and he stood for a minute, until he +had become accustomed to it. He passed into the +interior, and finally came into a room that was perfectly +round. "An arch chamber, or what?" he conjectured. +Out of the gloom a block arose. Something about it +attracted him, and he crossed to where it was fitted into +the wall. At one side he now read, "Sheriff's desk." +On the other side he read, "Clerk." And now he looked +at the block, and knew that it was on this <i>his</i> people had +been sold—at auction. He closed his eyes for a time, +and allowed his thoughts—his imagination—to go back +into the past, when rich planters, grand ladies, and +harsh overseers once held sway. And before him rose a +picture.</p> + +<p>"Hear me," the auctioneer, "I now offer the best +nigger that ever held a plow. A good, strong rascal, +that is worth:—How much am I offered to start him? +How much am I offered to start him? Five hundred! +Who is insane, or jokes? Five hundred for a nigger like +this? Nonsense! Now, here, come forward, and feel +this nigger's muscles, examine his teeth, strike his breast." +And, to emphasize his good, robust property, he struck +the slave a resounding lick across the breast, that would +have knocked over half the people before him. Wyeth +could seem to see the man, the black man, merely smile +at all the faces about him.</p> + +<p>"And now I am going to offer you something that will +arouse you. Bring forward the wench, the pretty young +wench."</p> + +<p>A young mulatto Negress now stood before the crowd. +A stirring, a collecting near the front, a crowding about +the block; some almost getting upon it, in their excitement. +A murmur went the rounds, and words could +be heard. "I'd like to own her!" There was a consulting +of bank books, a figuring of credit, and then the +auctioneers voice was heard again.</p> + +<p>"Look at 'er, look at 'er! Ha! A fine one, eh? Yes, +a fine one.... Look at her form.... Look at her face! +Here, bright eyes, hold up, hold up, and let the boys +see what I have got.... What am I bid?"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_509" id="Page_509">[Pg 509]</a></span></p> + +<p>"$1000."</p> + +<p>"Say! The man that made that bid ought to be +hung! A thousand dollars for a wench like this? Why, +by all the pious gods, she is worth that for a year...."</p> + +<p>"$1500."</p> + +<p>"$2000."</p> + +<p>"$2500."</p> + +<p>"$3000."</p> + +<p>"Ah, sir," said someone, and Wyeth came back to the +present, to look down upon and old, white-haired woman, +who was standing, observing him from the doorway. +He bowed apologetically, got down, and went toward her.</p> + +<p>"I have charge of the building," said she, speaking in +a little strained voice. "Would you not like to view +the interior?"</p> + +<p>"I should like to, I am sure," he replied.</p> + +<p>He followed her back to the door through which he +had entered, and up a flight of winding, iron stairs to +the next floor. Even these, he saw, had once been +most magnificent. His guide offered no comment, but +caught her breath in gasps as she ascended. When the +landing had been reached, both paused for breath, while +Wyeth's attention was immediately caught by the +decaying grandeur, that was evident all about him. +"Wonderful," he said at last, in a low, respectful voice, +and as though he feared to disturb some of those grand +persons that once had frequented it.</p> + +<p>"Wonderful, you say?" echoed the woman, and +regarded him out of small, sharp eyes.</p> + +<p>"Magnificent."</p> + +<p>"And, be you a stranger in the city?" she now asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And from where do you come?"</p> + +<p>"The great northwest. Dakota."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Dakota—m-m. That is far, far away?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; far, far away."</p> + +<p>"I have never been there. I have never been anywhere, +but have always lived here in Bienville Parish. +I was born here, a creole."</p> + +<p>They now walked down the wide hall, and where he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_510" id="Page_510">[Pg 510]</a></span> +gazed into the deserted rooms on either side, all of which +revealed a once great splendor.</p> + +<p>"Here," she said, "is a room that once played a +conspicuous part in the old south." She led him then +into a large room, much larger than any other in the +building. It was a round room, and he could see that it +had been made to be used for convention purposes. +She was explaining.</p> + +<p>"It was once used as a temporary capitol, and later +as a rendezvous for secessionists. And still later, after +the war, Sheridan made a raid, and arrested many conspirators."</p> + +<p>"I suppose," said Sidney, "that this place has seen +many grand occasions?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, indeed it has. All the aristocrats of the southland +always stopped here, as well as counts and dukes +and lords and great ladies, and still from South America +and Mexico the best people stopped here."</p> + +<p>They passed out of the room, across the hallway, and +entered another room that was furnished. "I live here," +said the woman, to his surprise.</p> + +<p>"Here—alone?"</p> + +<p>She nodded. "Yes, alone for many years."</p> + +<p>He understood now, and, running his hands into his +pockets, he pulled forth a half dollar, and handed it to +her. She accepted it with many thanks, and gave him +then, some pictures and relics.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you have many visitors—tourists?" he +inquired, starting toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Well, no, I do not," she said, somewhat regretfully. +"The people do not seem to wander down into this +section. They do not appear curious for relics, as they +used to be."</p> + +<p>"That's too bad—for you," he said kindly.</p> + +<p>"It is, since I am old, and have no other way of getting +my living," and she sighed.</p> + +<p>"How old are you?"</p> + +<p>"Eighty-nine."</p> + +<p>"And you have no—no children?" he asked now, +with curious interest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_511" id="Page_511">[Pg 511]</a></span></p> + +<p>"None. And that—and that, perhaps, is why I'm +like I am today...."</p> + +<p>Wyeth listened kindly, patiently. The other appeared +sad and reminiscent.</p> + +<p>"No, I shall never seem to get over it, either. I am +the last of a family that came here from France, many, +many years ago—two hundred, to be exact. For many +years, we were the richest family in Bienville Parish, +and perhaps almost as rich as any other in the state. +We owned land, and slaves, until we could hardly count +them. Of course, the war meant—you can understand +what we lost with the freedom of the blacks. But after +that, we were still immensely rich. But, somehow, a +curse seemed to come over the family. No boy babies +were born to any. The girls became subject to consumption, +until all had died but myself. Then I married. +My husband was Spanish and French, very affectionate, +and was good to me, and we were hopeful and happy—until +I bore him no offspring. He grew crabbed, nervous +and impatient.</p> + +<p>"Before long, I came to see that he was intimate +elsewhere. He began to drink, to gamble, and to carouse. +He stayed out until all hours of the night, and then he +got so he would not come home at all. For days I would +not see him, and then for weeks." She paused long +enough now to wipe a tear. "I began to fear for him, +for, I recalled that his ancestors had come to abrupt ends, +and I worried. Because I could bear him no children, +I gave him freely of the fortune that was left to me. +He ran through with his, and then with mine." She +was weeping quietly now, and he felt inclined to comfort +her, but did not know how.</p> + +<p>After a time she was calm again. She took a seat by +the window, and gazed with a tired expression out into +the street, while he waited. "Well," she resumed, "they +brought him home one day, dead, and I have been alone +since."</p> + +<p>"Too bad," said Wyeth, and shifted about, listening +for more, for, carefully observant, he saw that she was +not through.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_512" id="Page_512">[Pg 512]</a></span></p> + +<p>"One day, there came a woman, an attractive colored +woman, with large eyes and the most beautiful hair and +skin and form I had ever, I think, seen. She led a little +boy by the hand, and when he looked up at me, I +screamed. I knew then, and didn't have to be told, +that he was my husband's son.</p> + +<p>"Strangely, I was happy. To know that my good +husband—for he had been good in the beginning—had +left his name, somewhat cheered me, and we agreed to +educate and give him a chance.</p> + +<p>"We placed him later, at my expense, in a good school, +and he grew to be a handsome, bright-eyed young man. +I watched him, however, with a slight fear—for I remembered. +But he made a man of himself, a successful man, +and with the last few thousands I could gather, I helped +to start him in business, and in due time he had made +a name that was an envy. He became the owner of +much of the best property in the city, land in the northern +part of the state, and, in the end, married one of the +wealthiest and most attractive girls in the town." She +paused again, and Wyeth listened without a word. +Something remained yet to be told....</p> + +<p>The woman was speaking again.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he grew to success and happiness—and then, +well, something happened."</p> + +<p>"Something happened?" Wyeth echoed.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Something happened." She was silent now, +and gazed again out of the window.</p> + +<p>"Heredity."</p> + +<p>"Heredity?" And still he did not understand. He +could not be patient longer. "Who was this man—that +is, ah—what was his name. I don't think I ever heard +of him—a colored man?"</p> + +<p>She looked straight at him now, without a change of +expression, and answered: "He was not colored!"</p> + +<p>"Not colored?"</p> + +<p>"I should have said," she corrected, "that he didn't +go as colored.... He <i>passed</i> for white."</p> + +<p>"Oh...."</p> + +<p>"But that was not it—heredity."<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_513" id="Page_513">[Pg 513]</a></span></p> + +<p>Wyeth said nothing.</p> + +<p>"He ran around. He took up drink—and then he +wanted—colored women."</p> + +<p>After this, both were silent for a long time; but Wyeth +was thinking. He was hearing over again what he had +heard before—many times. "<i>Colored women!</i>" In Dixie, +he felt that if he could keep his ears deaf to hearing of +white men—and those who "passed" for white—wanting—and +having—colored women, he could, he possibly +might like the country; but everywhere he had heard +this. The woman broke the silence.</p> + +<p>"This city is possessed with that desire. Have you +observed it—everywhere you might chance to look, you +will see it?"</p> + +<p>He sighed. She looked at him again, and then became +silent.</p> + +<p>Across the way, a large, municipal building rose far +above St. Louis—Royal Hotel—Slave Market. Through +the window from where they sat, busy clerks worked +away over books. When their eyes glanced to the +street, it was broken with automobiles, and busy people +hurrying to and fro.</p> + +<p>"I have a visitor," he heard the woman say. "She is +a sweet, kind, but sad sort of girl. She has been to see +me several times of late, and I have been talking religion +with her. In all my days, no human being has interested +me as she has. I love her. And while I can't object, +I regret to feel in some way that she is going to enter +the convent, and become a sister."</p> + +<p>"Are you a Catholic?"</p> + +<p>"All French are Catholic," she answered.</p> + +<p>"Then you perforce sanction this intention of your +girl friend?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do; but, oh, how much I shall miss her!"</p> + +<p>"Will she enter soon?"</p> + +<p>"Very soon!"</p> + +<p>"Have you known her long?"</p> + +<p>"A few months; but it seems I have known her all +my life."</p> + +<p>"Is she—what is she, colored or white?" he asked.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_514" id="Page_514">[Pg 514]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Colored."</p> + +<p>"Indeed. Her name?"</p> + +<p>"I have it; but I forget. I call her always Little Sister. +I have her picture and will let you see it. She had it +taken a few days ago, out there on that grass plot," +and she pointed to the yard of the municipal building. +She was a few minutes finding the picture, and then +Wyeth was overcome by a strange feeling, with regard +to what he had heard. A girl ... sad ... going to +enter a convent.... Who was this girl? Who, who, +who?</p> + +<p>"Here is her picture," said the woman.</p> + +<p>He took it, and saw Mildred smiling up at him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_515" id="Page_515">[Pg 515]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN_4" id="CHAPTER_THIRTEEN_4"></a>CHAPTER THIRTEEN</h2> + +<p class="center">"<i>Restitution</i>"</p> + + +<p>"I had to," cried Mildred bewilderingly, as she hurried, +hatless, breathless, along the walk, when she left her +lover so abruptly. She was distracted; she was not +fully aware of what she said. All she knew was, that at +the most supreme moment of her existence, she had +broken away from the one she loved, and for whom she +would have been willing to die; but to marry him at +last, she felt she could not conscientiously do. "Oh, +but it was manly, kindly—sublime, his offer, and how +I love him for it!" she whispered. "I know he will +forgive me; he will remember me kindly; he will never +forget me, and my love for him—but to go to him and +make him suffer with the thought of the past—never!"</p> + +<p>She slowed down, as she neared the wide street, that +crossed just ahead of her. She crossed the walk to the +center of the street, where a car was coming, and caught +it. Once inside and seated, she lay back, and became, +for a time, dully listless. Presently, she saw the river +just ahead, and when the car slowed down, she left it, +crossed to the ferry, and went aboard. A half hour +later, she was in her room.</p> + +<p>Her sister greeted her pleasantly from the garden, +which aroused her emotion to such a degree, that she +choked slightly, in order to hold back words she had +long wished to say.</p> + +<p>When alone at last in her room, she lay across the +bed, and gave up to the feeling of inertia, that had taken +possession of her.</p> + +<p>All that day she remained so. She could scarcely +collect her wits. Again and again, the events connected +with his return, flew through her dull, sluggish mind,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_516" id="Page_516">[Pg 516]</a></span> +and, at last, to relieve it, she dressed in a cool, thin +dress, and went for a walk down by the river front.</p> + +<p>She passed many docks, where not so many steamers +lay at anchor as she had once noticed. She wondered +why, since she had observed the falling off of traffic. +Then she thought about the bloodshed that was going +on each day across the water. She soon came abreast +of a wharf where more than a score of great ocean goers +were anchored. No smoke came from their funnels; +no men worked away on their decks; in fact, they were +as silent as the grave, their dark hulls casting a dull +shadow above the water. She wandered down the +board platform, and studied them idly. Then she read, +painted on their sterns, names with Bremen and Hamburg +as their port.... Her thoughts again reverted to +the carnage across the waters.</p> + +<p>She found the street again, and wandered aimlessly +along the sidewalk. Suddenly she halted and strained +her ears, as a sound came to her from some distance. +She listened, and then looked up and across the river, +where the creole city stretched, apparently endless, +before her. She observed in doing so, for the first time, +that the river curved in such a manner as to form a +perfect crescent at this point, and, although her thoughts +were confused, she did not fail to appreciate the beauty +of it.</p> + +<p>Her gaze had found the place from whence came the +sound that had halted her. It was the bell of a church +vibrating through the still evening air. The steeple in +which it was mounted, raised far into the air above the +buildings about it, and she watched it with growing +reverence. As she continued to stare at it, it seemed to +outline a mighty sepulchre, and she fell to speculating +about it. She was familiar with it, in a measure, and +recalled, as she found herself wandering vaguely along +a few moments later, that she used to pass it each day. +It was when <i>he</i> lay ill at the hospital, that it was near. +It was called St. Catherine. She had happily observed +that may little colored children went to it each day, and +Sunday. Their training, she had observed, was very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_517" id="Page_517">[Pg 517]</a></span> +different from the denominations with which she was +acquainted. She had stopped before its steeple the first +time, one day toward the close of Sidney's recovery. +The next day she had entered it, and wandered down its +carpeted aisles. She had gone up to the front, before she +realized that any one was in the church. And then a +sister came from an alcove, or from some place, but she +could not imagine where.</p> + +<p>She had halted embarrassed, but the other smiled +upon her so pleasantly, that her confidence was won in +a moment.</p> + +<p>Mildred recalled it—the meeting—strangely today. +She wondered what the life of a sister was like. She had +guessed what it meant.... She had almost forgotten the +sister, until she went her way this day, when the lot of +those patient souls came to her mind again.</p> + +<p>She reached a street presently, where two wide walkways +intersected, and when she reached the center of +the intersection, something gripped her and she stopped +quickly, catching her breath. She continued to stand +thus, but with eyes widening, nerves tense, and then +she uttered beneath her breath: "Why not? Yes, why +not? Why, why, why?" Then, completely absorbed in +the idea, which had suddenly come to her, offering, as +she felt it now, a solution of her life, she turned on her +heel, and retraced her steps homeward.</p> + +<p>And all the way she kept saying to herself: "Why not, +why, why?"</p> + +<p>She hesitated at the gate, and again there came to her +ears from across the river the chime of the bell on St. +Catherine. It echoed softly, and vibrating, it touched +her soul to its depths. She stood at last transformed. +As it continued to float across to her, she seemed to +translate: "Come unto me, all ye that are heavy laden, +and I will give thee rest."</p> + +<p>When she entered the house, her head hung, with eyes +cast down. She had decided to become a sister.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>There came a day, bright, clear, and slightly breezy; +but withal, invigorating, and she went to visit the old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_518" id="Page_518">[Pg 518]</a></span> +woman who lived alone in the deserted St. Louis—Royal +Hotel. She had no tremors, because it had been the +place where once her people were sold by thousands. +She had met the old woman on one of her frequent +pilgrimages alone in the creole city, and had become +strangely fond of her. Mildred had, on more than one +occasion, felt constrained to tell her the story.... So +today, she came quietly upon the old soul sitting by the +window, with the light streaming in upon her faded hair +and features.</p> + +<p>"You come today, Little Sister. I am always so glad +to see you."</p> + +<p>Mildred returned the greeting kindly and pleasantly, +and sank into the proffered chair. She had told the +other of her intentions, but offered no reason for her +decision. She asked today that the other bless her, +which was done. They sat afterward in mutual silence. +Presently, however, the other broke it.</p> + +<p>"A young man was here yesterday, a strange, kind, +forgiving sort of fellow. He aroused me in a way; he +brought back, by his presence, memories, and I don't +know why; but I told him my story.... He listened so +patiently, so kindly, and with such sympathy, I do +declare, that I wept."</p> + +<p>"A young man? A—"</p> + +<p>"A young colored man from away off in the great +northwest."</p> + +<p>"Sidney, oh, Sidney," Mildred breathed, unheard.</p> + +<p>"And do you know, dear Little Sister, I thought of +you almost all the time he listened, and was near me.... +I don't know why. I cannot imagine predestination in +a large sense; but in some way I felt he suffered." She +paused, and Mildred swallowed. After a time she said, +in a small voice:</p> + +<p>"I guess I'll go now."</p> + +<p>The other did not detain her, though she wished she +would never leave, but followed her out of the silent old +place down to the street, and watched her out of sight.</p> + +<p>She passed through one of the narrow streets to the +banking section of the city, entered the one where Sidney's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_519" id="Page_519">[Pg 519]</a></span> +money was deposited, which he had given back to her, +and she had it made into a draft. This was mailed forthwith +to him. Then she recrossed the river, and when in +her room, packed all her belongings securely, and then +wrote a long letter to her sister. In this, she told of her +life from the day she had left home on the mission ... omitting +why she had done this ... up to the day. +She wrote that she loved a young man, loved him, so that +she could not bear to become his, and feel that she was +guilty—unworthy. She closed it, asking her sister to +accept all she left—which was everything, but what she +wore.</p> + +<p>She retired, for night had come, and slept so peacefully +the night through, that she was surprised. She dressed +before the others arose, and slipped into the street.</p> + +<p>In due time, she stood at the gates of St. Catherine. +It was still early, and the people were not much astir, +when again the chimes came to her ears, a hundred and +more feet above her. She listened, and as they continued +to ring, she gradually became transformed. No +one came, so she entered the gate, went around to the +side, and took a seat.</p> + +<p>Her mind became reflective and reverted to the past, +and she found herself living it over, again and again. +But, as she reviewed it, she seemed to have no regrets; +she did not foster the kind of hopes she once had, and +then she arose and found her way again to the front. +She approached the door, and when she tried the knob, +found that it was open. The priest was just leaving +through a side door as she entered, and did not hear her +footfall, as she passed lightly down the carpeted aisle.</p> + +<p>She stood before the altar, when she had come to the +other end, and getting down upon her knees, offered a +silent little prayer. She remained there until the flood +of emotion—for she found herself peculiarly emotional +today—had passed, and then arose. She gazed at the +emblem of the Christ before her for a moment, and then, +turning, she walked into Sidney Wyeth, who had come +upon her, and was waiting while she was in prayer.</p> + +<p>"Mildred," he said, and his voice came low, even, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_520" id="Page_520">[Pg 520]</a></span> +respectful. "I know...." This was all he said; but +the hungry look in his eyes told all else....</p> + +<p>She halted before him without any undue excitement +in her manner, but her eyes were downcast. She recalled +even now, that she had never been able to return his +piercing gaze. She kept her head bent, with her small +hands folded before her, but listened with something +akin to a heavenly rapture. He was speaking again.</p> + +<p>"I am not going to infringe upon your liberty by +asking you to give up what is your intention. I've +come, Mildred, just to see—to look into your eyes once +more, before you go your way.... That is all I ask. +You will grant me that, won't you, Mildred?" They +stood facing each other, only a few feet apart. He held +his hat crushed in his hand, while she did not release her +grip on the cross she held. He watched her, as she +slowly raised her head, as her eyebrows came slowly +into view, and then at last her eyes.... They looked into +his now. His looked into hers. Slowly, they spoke—both +pairs of eyes. No words passed their lips, but each +could seem to hear a soul within crying: "<i>Restitution! +Restitution!</i>"</p> + +<p>How long they stood thus, they did not know. But, +after a time, something seemed to break the spell. Perhaps +it was the departed souls. They knew not, were +not even aware of what was passing. Still, the eyes of +each, hypnotic, struggling with the fire of incarnation, +slowly drew them nearer. They were at last near each +other. Their breaths came in strange, tender gasps. +Their eyes continued to see and regard each other in +that heavenly rapture. And still no word was spoken.</p> + +<p>His hands seemed to find hers and the cross. They +gathered them and held them fast, while out of her ethereal +eyes he saw a divine glory never to be forgotten. Then +his left arm rose. It slowly encircled her form. They +heard now, each others heart. And then something +else seemed to guide him. His head went down, while +his eyes still looked into Mildred's with that peculiar +enchantment. He placed his cheek against hers, with +gentleness and reverence.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_521" id="Page_521">[Pg 521]</a></span></p> + +<p>When the good father came again into the church, he +paused as he watched a couple pass slowly down the +aisle. They were a man and a woman. His arm rested +about the slender shoulders of his companion, with great +tenderness.</p> + +<p>So together, they went to that land in the west.</p> + + +<p class="center">THE END</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="notes"> +<p class="center">FOOTNOTES:</p> +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_2" id="Footnote_A_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_2"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Author's Note: The usual term applied to juries is, "Twelve +good men and true."</p></div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<div class="notes"><p class="center">TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:</p> + +<p>On page 259 of this original, 1915 publication of The Forged Note, there +is a line of missing text, which appears as a blank line on the page. In the 1916 +reprint (which is available for viewing online at hathitrust.org) this missing +line reads: "... <a href="#the_subject_and_which_would_serve_to_substantiate_her">the subject, and which would serve to substantiate her</a>...." +For the convenience of the reader, the missing line, as printed in the 1916 +edition, has been inserted into this text.</p> + +<p>Obvious typos and printer errors have been corrected without comment.</p> + +<p>In addition to obvious errors, the following changes were made:</p> + +<blockquote><p>1. Page 165: "wan" was changed to "wane" in the phrase: "...he felt the interest +wane...."</p> + +<p>2. Page 255: "here" was changed to "hear" in the phrase "... and go, dy'e hear...."</p></blockquote> + +<p>With the above exceptions, inconsistencies in the +author's spelling, punctuation, and use of hyphens are retained as +in the original publication.</p> + +<p>Unconventional spelling has been retained in words such as (but not +limited to) the following:</p> + +<blockquote><p> +Page 243: bisquits<br /> +Page 344: surpressed<br /> +Page 362: philanthrophist<br /> +Page 389: wrapped (instead of rapped)<br /> +Page 395: preceeded<br /> +</p></blockquote> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Forged Note, by Oscar Micheaux + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE FORGED NOTE *** + +***** This file should be named 39548-h.htm or 39548-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/5/4/39548/ + +Produced by Cathy Maxam and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net. 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